Slave to Hope
by FMHB
Summary: AU After Isuldur defeats Sauron a war begins between the human and elven races leading to the enslavement of the human race. Now there is one human slave boy called Estel who is the last great hope for middle earth. More Summary inside...
1. Prologue

Summary: (AU) After Isuldur defeats Sauron a war begins between the human and elven races leading to the enslavement of the human race. Now there is one human slave boy called Estel who is the last great hope for middle earth. This is the stories of Estel's beginning adventures going from slave boy to son gaining enemies and friends along the way.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used within this fanfiction. All are products of J.R.R. Tolkien.  
  
Rating: PG-13. Some child abuse/torture. No sexual situations or violence language.  
  
Background Info: This story is an alternate universe story. I cannot promise that my facts go along perfectly with book cannon and I'm sure I've made some mistakes on some of these minor details so please forgive me and feel free to let me know in reviews if you want. I'd be happy for the corrections.  
  
Authors Note: This is my first fanfiction and I know it's not perfect. I've tried to keep it interesting and I hope that you will find it exciting and entertaining. I would appreciate your opinions on how I can improve my story like if the characters and plot are interesting and authentic, etc. I appreciate your reading and your input. I know this prologue is not the most interesting, but I hope you will bear with me and not give up if this bores you. Since it is alternate universe I wanted to start out with some background information. I promise the next chapter (chapter 1) will be more interesting than this. So please stick with me and give it a chance. Thanks again and happy reading.  
  
Prologue:  
  
"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie".  
  
-- J R R Tolkien  
  
Once at the dawning of the age middle earth existed in peace.  
  
Dwarves, Elves, and Men all lived together, like brothers, and middle earth  
flourished...  
  
But peace was not to be kept... For with light darkness inevitably follows, seeking to smother its eternal  
grace.  
  
The breaking of the world began with good intentions. Most things do, but oh how quickly good intentions are forgotten at the pinnings of power. And  
oh how quickly the heart is turned with illusions of grandeur.  
  
There was a powerful wizard named Sauron. He was a protector over middle  
earth and loved by all its creatures. The Valar blessed him above all  
mortal men with eternal life and great power. But Sauron was easily  
corrupted by this power and grew arrogant and selfish.  
  
A demon called Meldor saw the weakness of Sauron and knew he would easily be turned towards the side of darkness. Meldor was prohibited by the binding rules of the Valar to interfere in the ways of middle earth, but he saw a way to revenge himself against the Valar who had cast him from the undying lands an eternity ago. He would claim rule over middle earth and enslave all it's fair creatures that the Valar loved so dearly. Sauron would be his dark minion bringing a reign of darkness down upon the entire world and heralding in an apocalypse. If Meldor had his way middle earth would be flowing with the blood of innocence before the dawning of the next age and he would claim middle earth as his own while the Valar wept.  
  
Meldor promised Sauron even greater power and tempted him with visions of ruling over all of middle earth. In exchange Sauron sold his soul to the demon turning his heart black and dead. Sauron journey to Barad Dur and formed a kingdom of sorts calling the land Mordor (dark land), making it dark like his soul. And in his dark isolated kingdom Sauron's blood lust grew and his hatred of all things good and pure drove him onward as he plotted and schemed the fall of all middle earth...  
  
Sauron sought to divide the elves, dwarfs, and men. For only divided could the dark lord hope to conquer the light of creation and thus reign over the darkness that would follow. He would bring a reign of bloodshed, hatred, and death and his power would be unstoppable.  
  
And so Sauron whispered in the ears of the great kings befriending them while he twisted their thoughts to match his own. He persuaded them to create rings of power to rule over their people. The kings were clouded with illusions of grandeur as they were promised great wealth, power, and prosperity for all time. And so the rings were created.  
  
The elves created but three.  
  
They had lived upon middle earth for centuries and were a wise and cautious race. They knew that power could corrupt the soul and so shied from the rings. The elves already had so many gifts from the Valar that might held little meaning.  
  
For the elves had superior vision, hearing, grace, and speed to all other races. The elves immortality blest them with an everlasting life span. They were allowed to live for centuries to come, the guardians of fair middle earth. But perhaps the greatest gift and the greatest curse of all was their ability to commune with nature as their brethren creating life with their singular touch. They had the power to grow a flower with a single breath and a tear could save a life near death's door.  
  
Yet destruction and darkness thus became unbearable forces to contend with. Their hearts were fragile and tragedy could easily shatter the gentle souls. So the Valar gifted them with an intense glow surrounded these fair creatures and thus they became known as the children of the light. For no darkness could penetrate the magic that surrounded these fair creatures protecting them from the evils of the world lest their delicate hearts be broken in the onslaught of hate.  
  
The dwarfs were a hearty people who loved the rock and dirt of land. They had a small stature so they could be closer to the land they loved so dearly while the elves had been made tall so they could easily climb the trees they created. Dwarves were given phenomenal strength so they could pound and sculpt the earth. They too were an immortal race.  
  
But they bore seeds of jealousy for the elven people. The Dwarves could only break and mold and change. The elves could truly create and it ate at the Dwarves souls that they bore no such gifts. And so the dwarves made seven rings of power in hopes of contending with the power of the elves. Alas the dwarves so sure they were some how lacking, forgot the great many gifts the Valar had given them above all races, for they had a courage and might much to be desired. Their skill with the axe was uncontestable and they made friends with all creatures. Alas they made a foolhardy decision to create those dark rings to the ill of all.  
  
And then there was man. They bore one of the greatest gifts the Valar could bestow...heart. They loved without limits and had a passion for life that burned as bright as the flame of a candle. They wore their emotions freely quick to feel and share enriching fair middle earth with their ceaseless expression.  
  
Yet they felt themselves the weakest of the races. They were far more clumsy then elves and their senses were much more limited. Man did not have the strength of dwarves. And they were a mortal race. 100 years and then they left this world to fates unknown. And so nine rings did man erect. So sure that such power would make them just as strong, wise, graceful, and powerful as their brothers the dwarves and elves.  
  
But do not judge man harshly for they were but children in the immortal life span of all other creatures in middle earth. All children make mistakes, an inevitable truth born of life. For it is through mistakes that one gains experience and hard-learned lessons that gives one wisdom.  
  
And so the races corrupted by the power of their rings grew distant from one another. The dwarves isolated themselves in their mountains finding no use for elves and man. The elves journey to their forests and then men to their towns. And while the world crumbled the dark lord, Sauron laughed in his tower. Watching the slow destruction of the fair people of middle earth and plotted and planned dark deeds.  
  
While middle earth slowly divided and broke under the strain of shattered friendships Sauron secretly created his own ring. It was of simple craft seemingly insignificant to the untrained eye. But it was this one plain piece of metal that would forever scar a land of beauty and peace. It was this "One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them" This ring bore a power over all the other rings and would make the creatures of middle earth forcibly submissive under Sauron's dark rule, thus making him unstoppable.  
  
Sauron also created a foul army of distorted tortured elves called orcs. And transformed once peaceful wolf creatures into dark warg fighters. He gathered ogres, goblins, and other foul creatures to his evil cause building a force of darkness to be reckoned with.  
  
And then the great power of Sauron was known.  
  
He led him army across middle earth destroying or enslaving all in its path leaving a sea of blood in his wake. The beings of middle earth had learned too late of the dark lord's betrayals. They were unprepared to withstand Sauron's forces and all quickly fell under the dark armies blades. Sauron captured and enslaved elves, dwarfs, and men alike.  
  
He enslaved the dwarves and sent them to work in his dark mines, of elves he tortured and mutilated their fragile souls replenishing his fearsome orc army. And of men he created the most fearsome force of all, Wraiths. Their were but nine in all, the great kings of the age. The nine bearers of the rings of power. Such distorted creatures they no longer bore any spark of humanity their souls filled with only darkness and hate for an eternity of suffering. The killed and pillaged across the countryside following their masters bidding without a glimmer of mercy left in their wasted souls. And all hope was lost as darkness covered all of middle earth.  
  
But then hope sprang forth once more. A great king named Isuldur rose to power. He was a compassionate ruler amazingly uncorrupted by the evils around him. He went into hiding after Sauron's rise slowly reuniting the divided men of the world and slowly built an army of his own.  
  
He traveled to Mirkwood and formed peace with the elves uniting them together as a formidable force. He also journeyed to Dale gaining the Dwarfs allegiance as well.  
  
And so elf, dwarf, and man united once more as in days of old to defeat the evil that was destroying their homeland once and for all. Sauron would never again haunt their lands and peace would reign once more they vowed.  
  
It took many years and much blood shed. At times hope seemed lost, but Isuldur, Gil Galad, Elrond Perendil, and many other brave warriors fought valiantly onward in a fight for dominance of middle earth.  
  
A great battle at last came that would determine the fate of all.  
  
Elf, man, and dwarf beat back the forces of darkness with a courage and strength gifted them by the blessing of the Valar. Isuldur cut off Sauron's four fingers as well as severing the dark lord's connection to the ring of power. And so Sauron defeated and broken disappeared from middle earth in a ball of fire vowing to vengeance and to return one day to reclaim middle earth as his own.  
  
Isuldur took up the ring of power and journeyed with Elrond to mount Doom for only here thrown into the fiery pits of Mordor could the ring be unmade and middle earth forever freed of darkness. So long as the ring was destroyed Sauron would never be able to return to middle earth and his revenge would remain unfulfilled.  
  
But at the last moment Isuldur's strength failed him and he could not cast the ring away for the sake of all. One look at the ring and he was mesmerized by its power. The ring, clever in its dark twisted way, gave Isuldur visions of becoming a great ruler and king so long as he wore the ring upon his finger.  
  
And so Isuldur the one who had united middle earth once more was the one to break it as well.  
  
The dwarves returned to their caves vowing never to speak with elf or man again both traitorous demons. The elves were perhaps the most deeply hurt by this betrayal for they had suffered the greatest casualties all for not. And so they held an irreparable grudge against the world of men. And men themselves quickly became corrupted by the power of the ring and darkness reigned at the very core of human society. Isuldur soon became utterly corrupted by the dark powers of the ring and reigned over Gondor with a dark hand. The darkness spread and men were weight down with evil intent upon their hearts.  
  
Violence and war broke out between the world of men and they became a weak and broken people.  
  
Thranduil now the king of Mirkwood, after his father was killed during the great war, reigned on his own thrown with a bitter and vengeful heart. The ring's evil power could even touch the elves in the tree top palaces feeding Thranduil's anger and hate.  
  
He reformed his army and turned against man while they were at their weakest, intend upon destroying the ring of power once and for all and man along with it for their deceitful nature.  
  
And so the great war between elf and man began...  
  
They were dark days indeed. Even darker than the days of Sauron for two of the purest creatures blessed of the Valar fought to their own ruins while the Valar wept. The land was once more watered with the blood of the innocence as the world was put to shambles once more.  
  
The world of men inevitable fell under the agile fighting of the elves. Man had already greatly weakened their numbers in their own civil wars and the elves were truly fearsome warriors with skill that came from thousands of years of experience.  
  
So Gondor and Rohan fell...  
  
The elves still creatures of compassion and love could not bring themselves to utterly massacre the world of men and so enslaved many of the human race.  
  
Isuldur died and the ring of power went out of thought and time, lost for many years. But even though much of Isuldur's household fell, his line remained intact. For his human son escaped into the night, though many believed him dead and he was thus also forgotten.  
  
Many humans went into hiding at the fall of their homelands fleeing from the wraith of the elves. They were a people broken and divided. Either enslaved, exiled, or dead. It seemed the world of man was no more...  
  
Elrond, one of the great warriors after the last great war, could not bear the enslavement of the human race. In his heart he felt a great wrongness in these actions as did many elves of soft heart. And so he spoke out against King Thranduil pleading with him to see reason. But Thranduil was filled with hate and vengeance towards the world of men and so would see no reason, especially from a "half-elf". And so Elrond with his new wife Celebrian and their two young twin sons and infant daughter left Mirkwood and set out for a new home land.  
  
They found a land lush with life and named it Rivendell for it lay beside a great and plentiful river. Many of Elrond's supporters in the years to come would follow after and slowly a great elven kingdom was built and it would someday become a great refugee to all who sought it.  
  
The lady Galadriel and her husband celeborn also journey from Mirkwood seeking the isolation and peace of Lothlorian. They built a kingdom in the trees isolated from the ways of the world, happy in their solitude.  
  
After many years the divided world of men slowly began to rebuild. A group of renegade humans known as the rangers protected the weak from the residual forces of Sauron as well as the elves who still sought man's capture. They traveled constantly never to have a home of their own so that others could feel free and safe in theirs. The descents of Isuldur himself lead these noble rangers seeking to atone for their sins of their forefathers, putting their noble robes to rest and becoming outlaw warriors.  
  
And so it was for centuries to come....  
  
Stories of distrust grew between elf and dwarf so they became fearsome enemies. The hate of elf and dwarf became legendary though it was uncertain as to the true underpinnings of this dislike between them.  
  
The three elven kingdoms flourished, but there was only a tentative peace left between them. Deep seated disagreement lay between them that was not so easily rectified.  
  
The Valar watched the workings of middle earth and were greatly displeased. The land they had loved so much lay in ruins shadowed by deep seated unrest. And the valar's blessed creatures had lost their light and purity. And so the Valar punished their way ward children in hopes to help elf, dwarf, and man see the error of their ways.  
  
The dwarves were condemned to search aimlessly for buried treasures consumed with their greed that they would not see the light of day for centuries to come. They would become an isolated and empty people who could no longer celebrate and be merry as they once were, forever feeling a sense of emptiness inside.  
  
The elves lost their gift of creation. They could no longer save a life nor create a flower with the power of their own spirits. They could not even bear children, the greatest act of creation. And so they too were left with a sense of loss.  
  
And humans were condemned to live a millennia of enslavement or exile. They would remain a broken and lost people scattered to the four corners of the earth until the rebirth.  
  
Middle earth lay broken and unrepairable, divided and fallen.  
  
Sauron's vow to return slowly became an inevitable truth as darkness grew on the horizon. The world was divided and it was certain that none would or could oppose him. For the prophecies had written that only the heir of Isuldur bore the power to defeat the dark lord Sauron and all thought Isuldur's line forever broken. Few knew Isuldur's offspring still lived and so hope lay dim and far forgotten.  
  
And so all of middle earth watched in silent horror as the darkness grew and Sauron's strength returned.  
  
But there was still a sparkle of light in the see of darkness, a glimmer of hope in a world divided. Through the capture of a simple ranger a child would be borne, a slave by birth, but also a king by birth. And he would bring about the rebirth of middle earth,  
  
a savior  
  
hope 


	2. Chapter One: Learning to Breathe Again

Slave to Hope  
  
Chapter One: Learning to Breathe Again  
  
Hello, good morning, how you do?  
  
What makes your risin' sun so new?  
  
I could use a fresh beginning too  
  
All of my regrets are nothing new  
  
So this is a way, that I say I need You  
  
This is a way  
  
This is a way  
  
That I'm learning to breathe  
  
I'm learning to crawl  
  
I'm finding that you and you alone can break my fall  
  
I'm living again, awake and alive  
  
I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies (Switchfoot: Learning to Breathe)  
  
A tousled mane of curly black hair stirred at the clanking sound of a key turning in a lock and a door slowly scraping acrossed a stone floor as it opened.  
  
"Wake up you lazy edain" You've work to do." A voice called from the single glow of light in the room that also happened to be coming from the open doorway.  
  
The tousled curls stirred again this time revealing two glowing silver eyes hidden beneath the tangled foliage of hair.  
  
The eyes continued to stare unblinkingly back at the distant voice.  
  
"What are you waiting for boy? Get up. I don't have all day." The voice called out impatiently.  
  
The only response was the clinking of chains emanating somewhere within the dark interior of the room.  
  
"Tried to escape again did you? Should of known that was why they threw you back in here last night. Stubborn one, you are, but I suppose you'll learn soon enough." The voice sighed in agitation.  
  
The silver eyes blinked once, silence filling the emptiness. A shadow fell across the tangled heap of hair and eyes blocking out the scant ray of light provided by the doorway, causing the black curls to stir slightly.  
  
A lithe glowing form lowered itself gracefully till it was level with the silver beacons that stared unwaveringly, but guardedly back.  
  
The ethereal being shook its head sternly at the defiance in those sparking silver orbs, meeting him stare for stare like an equal.  
  
"Stop your fidgeting and let me unlock it." The glowing form responded his voice full of barely restrained contempt and exasperation.  
  
The sound of rattling chains was heard as the slim flitter of light revealed a small bare leg with a cold metal clamp encompassing its slim ankle.  
  
Two long delicate hands reached out towards the exposed leg. One grabbing tightly at the leg holding it steady while the other produced a key from the pocket of its white robe. The key was placed in the irregularly shaped hole ingrained in the metal cuff.  
  
The clicking sound of a key again turning in a lock was followed by the cuff falling unceremoniously against the hard stone floor, exposing a red tender area upon the leg where the cuff had once resided.  
  
"Look at your leg. You'll be limping for days now. You weak humans take so long to heal. You're completely useless to me now. Maybe I should give you to firithgalad (fading light) for the day. Perhaps he can knock some sense into you." The creature of light groused angrily.  
  
The soar leg trembled visibly along with its owner. The sound of scuffling broke the resounding silence that followed as the trembling figure pushed itself further back into the darkness till only two wide frightened eyes were all that was visible.  
  
"No...please." A timid voice whispered.  
  
"So you do still have a tongue." The white robed form chided. "I thought perhaps you'd had it cut out. Your smart mouth finally getting the better of you."  
  
"Please...please don't." the voice pleaded again unperturbed by his captor's jaunts.  
  
"Please what...?" the golden haired creature taunted.  
  
"Please don't let him have me." The voice croaked out tearfully as its owner cowered in the corner of the room.  
  
"Please what...?" The glowing being repeated unbothered by the others fear wracked body. "You know what I want to hear boy. Show me you've learned your place and I'll let you get to your chores."  
  
"Please....master." the voice hesitated before choking out the binding word as though parting with his very soul in the process.  
  
A glint of light revealed a single tear falling from the silver eyes, dampening a pale white cheek.  
  
The golden-haired entity gracefully walked across the room approaching the huddled form in the corner, its head bowed in shame.  
  
Smiling triumphantly the elf, for that was what he was, petted his cowering human slave gently on its dark curly head like a loyal dog.  
  
"Good edain. Now go wash up. No one ones a dirty human traipsing about the halls of Mirkwood. You've already wasted enough time this morning so no breakfast. You have five minutes to get ready and then I send Firithgalad to come and find you and I don't think he'll be nearly as understanding as I am, understand?"  
  
The human child nodded its head silently dropping its eyes submissively, at the mention of Firithgalad's name, before scurrying from the room.  
  
Rovan (rough bark) watched the retreating child coldly his eyes holding complete disdain. He would break that one soon enough. It was but a matter of time. Yes only a matter of time...  
  
Time he just didn't have! The human slave hurried quickly to the slave's wash room. The room was empty now, most of the slaves already set to their tasks for the day.  
  
The boy quickly splashed his face with cold dirty water, having been previously used by all the other slaves before him.  
  
He quickly discarded his dirty clothes in a corner and grabbed an identical outfit from a stack of clean clothes. He pulled the drab gray slave garment over his head. Upon taking the accompanying pants, the child pulled them up carefully trying to avoid scraping his injured ankle.  
  
The human hissed in pain as the cloth material inevitably brushed against his gashed ankle anyway, but he quickly ignored the pain knowing he didn't have time to properly clean the wound it he hoped to be on time and thus avoid Firithgalad's wraith.  
  
Limping slightly, fiery pain pulsed from the boy's ankle, his pants rubbing his raw skin as he walked down the corridor.  
  
He stopped first in the common room to retrieve a few logs to add to the dying fire. The room immediately brightened as a warm glow sparkled merrily from the fireplace.  
  
It was true that elves did not experience the normal feelings of coldness that was common to the other races, especially humans. Yet the elves were very insistent upon keeping the fires lit. Perhaps to fight off the ever encroaching darkness of Mordor. And it was always this slave boy's particular task to ensure all the fires were well lit before the elves rose with the dawn.  
  
The human boy continued his way down the corridor silently entering the room of each resident and dutifully ensuring each fireplace was glowing warmly as he left. He worked as quickly as he could knowing he was already running behind. He did not wish to walk in on an elf once they'd woken.  
  
Elves did not often take kindly to being disturbed.  
  
The curly harried child finally reached the end of the corridor, only two rooms remained, the prince's and the king's.  
  
The boy leaned tiredly against the prince's door trying to even out his breathing.  
  
Rushing through the hallway carrying out his early morning chores had quickly worn away the boy's already waning energy.  
  
He hadn't eaten in two days and was starting to feel lightheaded with hunger.  
  
Not to mention spending the past two days in darkness chained to the floor did nothing to improve his health. He may not have been an elf and thus quite as adverse to darkness, but it could still eat at the soul, especially of one with numorean blood. His ankle still stung painfully, throbbing uncontrollable in tune with his rapid heart rate and heavy breathing. The boy glanced quickly at his sore leg and was slightly aghast to discover a small red stain growing on his pant's leg.  
  
The boy stifled a small cry, fear overtaking him. He would be in trouble. He'd ruined a piece of clothing.  
  
The human slave slunk despairingly against the door as tears threatened to overflood his eyes.  
  
Rovan would let Firithgalad have him now as punishment.  
  
The boy couldn't stop the chills of fear from wracking his ackward frame as he thought of past horrors, and created new ones.  
  
But just as quickly as the despair had set in it was gone as a wave of hope stilled the shaking child. The boy pushed himself firmly back up, his shoulders straight, head high, and eyes determinedly set.  
  
He would run away.  
  
He had tried countless times before throughout his young life, ending him in his most recent predicament as well. But he was resolute that this time he would succeed, as only a hope-bearer could be. He had to. He couldn't face Firithgalad again. Not again...  
  
Once he finished his morning tasks he would sneak outside and run into the forest when no one was looking.  
  
Simple, Right?  
  
The boy had never been out of the palace grounds, except once a long time ago...  
  
He did not know the forests. Nor where he would go if he even got past the palace gates that is. Not even how he expected to survive on his own. But in the mind of an eight-year-old boy such things were not important. He would face what came when the need arose. Until then out of thought, out of mind. So long as hope sustained him all was possible. A plan now firmly entrenched in the young slave's mind he quietly entered the prince's room immediately setting about the tasks of lighting the fire in the prince's fireplace. He was oblivious to his surroundings, as he dreamed of all the wonderful things that must lie outside the palace gates, a world waiting to be uncovered.  
  
"You move quite silently for an edain." A voice drifted on the air coming from the further reaches of the room. "I didn't even realize you were in here until I heard you spark the flint." The voice continued appraisingly.  
  
The human child looked up quickly from his task a look of startled surprise on his face. He turned towards the voice caught paralyzed as he made eye contact with the prince. The elven ruler was standing out on his balcony turned to look at the slave with mild interest as the boy held his gaze a few moments too long.  
  
Realizing his error the human trembled slightly as he kneeled awkwardly like one unaccustomed to such behavior. He gritted his teeth holding in a hiss of pain as he jarred his ankle reminded once more of his injury.  
  
Realizing he still held the prince's gaze the boy quickly dropped his eyes to the floor prepared to receive a blow for his disobedience. After all that was what Firithgalad and Rovan would have done.  
  
"I...I'm sorry, Prince Legolas." The slave boy stammered out quickly. "I did not me...mean to disturb you. I did not realize you were awake. I would have knocked had I known. Please forgive me. I will return to ma...Lord Rovan for pu...punishment for my impu...impudence."  
  
Legolas smiled slightly as he caught the boy's omission of the word master. This one was indeed a defiant one. He must be quite a handful for Lord Rovan.  
  
"Neigh." Legolas replied reassuringly. "Punishment is not necessary. No harm is done. No ills committed. You did not disturb me for I did not sleep last night. My mind was troubled..." Legolas petered off as he glanced distractedly outside the window for a minute, worry creasing his forehead.  
  
Then he abruptly turned back to the slave again asking rather bluntly, "What is your name boy?" The prince scanned over the boy inquiringly. The boy visibly relaxed as the threat of punishment seemed diminished and even raised his head from the ground, but did not lock eyes this time. The elves piercing eyes seemed able to look into his soul and he feared for what the elf might find.  
  
"They call me Estelless, my lord"  
  
"Ah..." Legolas nodded neutrally, offering no further comment. No doubt a cruel joke on Rovan's part.  
  
He always did have a malicious sense of humor. Legolas thought sourly.  
  
A brief silence ensued causing Estelless to squirm uncomfortably.  
  
"Why are you troubled?" The boy blurted out hoping to end the ackward silence until sudden realization hit him full force. He had dared ask a question of one of the masters. A personal one at that and worse yet to a member of the royal family. The prince would not be so merciful this time.  
  
It was viewed by many elves as an unforgivable indiscretion for a slave to dare and pry into their personal thoughts. He would be flogged for sure.  
  
Estelless closed his eyes and bowed his head tensing as he waited for Prince Legolas to call for the guards.  
  
"I'm sorry you highness. I should not have asked. It is not my place. Please don't call the guards. I will leave if you wish it."  
  
Legolas found himself once more smiling at the child's innocent inquiry. Few would have dared ask him such a question much less a slave. The boy intrigued the elf prince immensely. He held a courage and insightful nature that was little seen in man or elf alike. And for an elf who was known to seldom ever smile it seemed this child had already elicited several acts of happiness from the prince in but a few minutes time.  
  
Legolas walked smoothly across the room and gently laid his hand upon the human's head feeling long dark curls flutter against his fingertips.  
  
The boy immediately tensed at the elf prince's touch shivers overtaking his small frame. Such a touch from an elf had always meant one of two things were to follow.  
  
Either physical or sexual in nature.  
  
Why couldn't he just learn to keep his mouth shut? Why couldn't he behave? Estelless berated himself as he felt tears stinging his eyes, but resolutely refused to allow them escape.  
  
"All is well young one. You will not be harmed. You have done nothing wrong. Being forthright is an admirable quality. Do not lose it." Legolas replied with a soothing tenderness he had seldom expressed in his life. He couldn't quite explain what had come over him. Quickly replacing his stoic mask lest he reveal anything too personal Legolas turned from the boy quickly.  
  
"Now come with me to the window I wish to look outside and perhaps I can explain a prince's troubled mind, if you still wish to know." Legolas called quietly over his shoulder lest the boy believe the prince was angry with him.  
  
The elf walked back to stand of the balcony not offering the boy a backward glance, thoroughly expecting the boy to follow in his own time.  
  
Legolas knew how important it was to have a few moments to collect one's self after having such an emotional break down and felt this child would appreciate the small consideration. So Legolas gazed peacefully out at the forest collecting his own troubled thoughts as well.  
  
Estelless lifted his head hesitantly relieved the prince was no longer staring at him with those piercing blue eyes.  
  
The prince was a curious oddity indeed. Estelless knew he had behaved inappropriately several times and thus far the prince had yet to reprimand him even once.  
  
Estelless had never spoken to the prince before, but he had always seemed so cold and aloof, a slave far beneath his notice. The prince seldom even associated with his own kind and preferred solid in most instances. And yet now that Estelless had truly met the elf prince he wondered if perhaps this cold shoulder was all an act. Perhaps there was a compassionate gentle hearted creature beneath this hard outer exterior.  
  
Estelless, a child far wiser than his age would predict, pondered this strange conundrum of an elf trying to puzzle out the curiosity that was prince Legolas.  
  
Rising slowly the human child followed after the prince hiding his still evident limp as best he could as well as the accompanying winces of pain the shot up his leg and registered upon his face. He had no wish to appear weak before the prince, a great warrior in his own right.  
  
Legolas cast a quick glance at the edain as he finally made his way to the prince's side. He caught a quick glance of pain? On the child's face. But before it could be identified the expression was lost, replaced by a look of curiosity and awe.  
  
Legolas followed the human's gaze and let a small smile fall easily upon his face, as it seemed inclined to at the moment.  
  
The forests of Mirkwood were indeed an impressive sight even with the ever- encroaching darkness. And for one who had never seen such before it could be positively breathtaking.  
  
The view from this room was perhaps the best in the entire palace and that is why Legolas often stayed here in his moments of solitude. He would spend hours just gazing out his bedroom window swept away in the unsurpassed beauty of nature.  
  
"Tell me what do you see?" Legolas questioned the awe struck boy.  
  
"Freedom." The boy whispered back without thought or hesitation.  
  
The prince's eyes widened slightly at the comment. To say the least it was most certainly not the answer he had been expecting. And yet as the prince gazed longing at the green expanse of nature he knew in his own heart how very true Estelless answer was.  
  
For a prince and a slave both chained, one with metal cuffs and the other with cuffs of royal obligation, the wild free growing forest offered an irrevocable promise of escape. Both had lived most of their lives locked tightly within the confines of these palace walls one by force the other duty and yet both inescapably bound....  
  
"Yes freedom." The elf prince sighed dreamily wishing he could walk amongst the trees once more. "However I was looking for a more tangible answer." Legolas rebutted seeking to return back to the original topic before the longing for flight became too great.  
  
The boy expressed an identical gaze of dreamy longing as he too looked upon the green expanse before him as he pondered thoughtfully upon the prince's question.  
  
After a moment Estelless began to list the most obvious answers.  
  
"Trees...birds...flowers...a small hunting party of elves...a deer with her young..."  
  
"Yes...yes those are all very true." Legolas answered as he gazed upon each item listed.  
  
"And a terrible sense of darkness around it all." Estelless shuddered involuntary as though icy fingers ran down his spine and his eyes turned slightly dark and troubled.  
  
Legolas again found himself quite surprised by the child's intuitive abilities. It seemed the child could sense the evil attacking these lands, an evil that ate at the prince's soul as the darkness grew.  
  
"My you are indeed perceptive. And quite correct, but it is the latter that concerns me the most as you can already guess. There was a time when the forest did not hold such evil. My home was once known as Greenwood many years ago before the darkness came. Once we lived among the trees instead of hiding in these caves like...like dwarves." Legolas spat out bitterly lost in his own emotions.  
  
Estelless took a small step back as the prince erupted into an angry tirade, sure any moment the elf royal would take his anger out upon the defenseless slave boy before him.  
  
Such had happened often enough in Estelless' life that he had grown leery of elves when they were angered.  
  
Legolas snapped back to reality as he caught movement from the corner of his eye. He turned towards the motion startled slightly as he remembered the small servant boy was still there.  
  
The child had seen his angry ranting. Legolas felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment The prince prided himself on being able to control his emotions and did not often share such personal displays. Yet he seemed almost comfortable sharing these things with the boy. He could not explain why this was so. Even though it slightly wounded his pride he has found it rather therapeutic almost relieving to share this burden with another.  
  
When the prince locked eyes with the retreating boy, Estelless immediately stopped his backwards advance fervently praying he could blend in with the scenery unnoticed.  
  
Legolas walked towards the paralyzed youth placing a comforting hand on the boy's trembling shoulder causing the boy to twitch as though he'd been burned.  
  
"Please don't hit me." The boy whimpered softly.  
  
Legolas couldn't help a sigh escaping from his lips. It seemed all he could do was frighten the child. He just couldn't seem to control his emotions at all today. Sometimes his temper could be just as bad as his father's, king Thranduil, when he let his frustrations get the best of him.  
  
"I'm sorry child." Legolas replied wearily. "I did not mean to scare you. Please no I would never harm you. I have let my despair get the best of me it seems. I feel the darkness growing closer day after day and I can not stop it. It weighs down my heart and clouds my mind stealing away all that is good until I am consumed with my hatred. It is utterly hopeless. We will never stop the dark lord from taking Mirkwood. We do not have the strength to oppose him. The elves are divided and weakened at the mercy of Sauron's whims. And I can do nothing to stop it. I must sit idly by and watch my home slowly destroyed." Legolas shook his head with despairing resignation and turned back to the balcony to think and mourn. "I should not burden you with such thoughts. You are still young. Appreciate the carefree days of childhood Estelless, for I hear they are too quickly gone in these dark days. Thank you for listening to my troubled mind. You are free to leave if you wish." The prince called over his shoulder dismissivly returning once more to his dark thoughts.  
  
Estelless watched the prince return to his window paradise watching the prince seemingly drag his lithe body across the room as though his burdens were too great to bear. The boy felt saddened at the dark shadows the haunted eyes that should sparkle with mischief and life. The prince was perhaps a thousand years old now if not more and yet by elven standards still a child in his own rights as well, far too young to have to worry over the troubles of the world. Too young to watch the growing darkness when he should be playing pranks with his friends. Such a proud creature should not have shoulders stooped so in defeat. Estelless thought mournfully.  
  
Estelless was relieved as the prince dismissed him, freeing the boy from this ackward situation. He could just leave and he would no longer have to look upon this sadly defeated young prince. He could just run from here and forget about those haunted eyes, forget about the frightening premonitions the prince had predicted.  
  
And yet something kept the young slave boy rooted to the spot. As much as his head may have screamed for him to just leave this dark place with its dark thoughts and its dark prince his heart adamantly refused such action. Estelless could not bare to allow the prince nor any creature to suffer so while he did nothing to aid them. And this elf before him did not deserve such a fate.  
  
Though Estelless had known the prince only for a short time he had come to see beneath this dark exterior there was a compassionate soul, a creature truly of the valar's grace. Prince Legolas held a greatness about him that could not be denied and a purity that seemed to call the very sun to his beck and call.  
  
Estelless was resolute to help this tormented creature no matter the cost even if it meant sharing the prince's dark burdens. "There is always hope." Estelless called out steeling his courage as he addressed the prince.  
  
Legolas turned around surprised to find the slave boy was still there. He blinked his eyes a few times unsure if the boy that stood before him really was the slave boy he had spoken to moments before.  
  
This human stood with straight proud shoulders. His head was held high, and his eyes burned brightly with some inner power that seemed to spark their silver depths into an aura of light.  
  
Legolas felt himself caught in the boys unerring gaze unable to see anything beyond those two silver balls of power and might. He felt himself tremble ever so slightly as a wave of warmth washed over the prince beating back the despair, fear, and anger posed to over come him.  
  
Estelless walked determinedly towards the prince placing his hand gently but firmly upon the prince's arm allowing his energy to flow from himself into the elf prince's creating a blinding aura of light between himself and the elf royal.  
  
Estelless could not explain what was happening he merely "felt" it was right. The young slave boy had learned at an early age he possessed a power he could not explain, merely that it seemed to heal things, to take away the darkness. It always left him feeling weak when he did it, but he was intent upon giving all he had if he could perhaps free the prince from the darkness gripping him.  
  
As the boy's hand touched him Legolas was flooded with feelings of goodness and truth, but above all a sense of indestructible hope.  
  
And in that moment the prince's natural glow pulsed into a blazing inferno of light that blinded all in its path. Burned as bright as the certainty he now felt that he had the strength to with stand any darkness, any evil. He was not so powerless as he imagined, Mirkwood was not so powerless. They would overcome Sauron's dominion, it was but a matter of time, a certainty not yet written in the history books.  
  
The prince was overwhelmed with a mental freedom he had not felt in centuries, perhaps truly never felt at all. After what seemed like an eternity, but was only moments the light faded, but the hope remained.  
  
Legolas felt weak and dazed yet contradictingly full of energy and life as never before.  
  
"Who...what." Legolas slurred out shaking his groggy head as he slowly pulled out of his daze. "Wh...what happened?"  
  
"I've never done a person before...I didn't think it would work." Estelless whispered.  
  
"What...what did you do to me." Legolas demanded feeling confused and somewhat frightened of this unknown power.  
  
Estelless looked at the prince with uncertainty. He didn't look angry, but how could the boy explain. Even he did not understand the power he had unleashed upon the prince. He started to back away hoping to make it to the door and escape. He was not sure what the prince's reaction would be and wished to be as far away from here as possible.  
  
"No don't go...please." Legolas called to the retreating boy making no attempts to chase after the obviously distraught child. "Please I don't understand what has happened. I suddenly feel so ...free. What was it you said to me something about hope..."  
  
"There is always hope." Estelless repeated himself hoping to appease the elf and be permitted to leave. He should have left well enough alone when he had the chance, but the prince had seemed so ...lost. "To deny hope only gives free reign to the darkness." The child added solemnly. "I merely helped you find it again."  
  
"And how would a mere boy know so much about hope?" Legolas questioned in confusion.  
  
"Because hope is all I have." Estelless replied simply dropping his gaze to the floor.  
  
The prince could feel the young boy's sadness and wondered how one so young could seem so old. His shoulders seemed slumped as though bearing too many burdens. His striking silver eyes bore a wisdom from hard learned lessons. Should not children be carefree? Their lives should be filled with merriment and mischief, not fear, sadness, and loss, even if they were human. Legolas added as an after thought.  
  
In that moment, Legolas, the prince of Mirkwood, began to question all he ever known. The seed of doubt had been planted.  
  
Legolas had learned since he was an elfling that humans were weak and needed guidance and protection. They were a greedy violent race, uncivilized and self-destructive. But this boy, this human child, did not seem so terribly weak.  
  
It was by this human slave's power alone that Legolas had found himself again where he was once lost in the shadows of his grief.  
  
It was obvious humans did not have the physical strengths of the elves. They could not see as far, run as fast, move as stealthy, nor live as long, but was their blood not as red as any elves?  
  
And perhaps what they lacked in strength they made up for it heart? If this mere eight-year-old boy was any indication of the human race. He had held off the darkness when a trained warrior hundreds of years his senior could not.  
  
But no! Legolas' mind protested stubbornly. Remember Isuldur. His blood had been weak, his own heart easily swayed by the darkness thus inflicting evil on generations to come.  
  
The elves had enslaved humans for good reason. They needed guidance...direction...supervision.  
  
So why was it when he looked at this suffering child he felt as evil as an orc for forcing him into this life, a life he did not want. He could almost see the invisible chains binding the boy to a world he wished no part of. He was not happy here. He bore scars not completely faded and it did not take much thought to guess who had caused them. The child limped and Legolas sensed it was not a defect of birth seeing as blood stained the boy's pants leg.  
  
And it was not this boy alone.  
  
How many times had he walked through the palace and seen similar marks on other humans? How often had he ignored a slave being whipped and never even asked why? And what of the ones that mysteriously disappeared into the forest after being taken there by Firithgalad?  
  
Who was truly the uncivilized monster?  
  
The slave or the master?  
  
Legolas' shoulders uncharacteristically stooped in shame, uncertainty clouding his eyes.  
  
What was right? He just didn't know anymore.  
  
Was he a monster?  
  
Is that what he had become, that which he most despised?  
  
Estelless seemed to know exactly what the prince was thinking. The boy laid a hand reassuringly on his arm smiling weakly.  
  
"Do not fret...so long as there is hope there is still goodness in the world to be found and had. You are not to blame for the darkness in the world only for your unwillingness to share the light if you so choose."  
  
"It seems young one your namesake is all wrong Estelless. No it doesn't suit such a hopeful boy like you at all." Legolas smiled placing his hand upon the boy's shoulder in a brotherly act of affection. "I think, if you'd allow, young one that I will call you Estel instead.  
  
"I'd like that my lord." Estel offered the prince a rare smile, merriment dancing in his eyes.  
  
"You may call me Legolas, if you wish. Formality is not necessary." The prince offered returning the boy's smile, joining in his happiness.  
  
"Thank you Leg...Legolas." Estel replied with slight hesitation as he tested the name upon his lips, unused to it without its precursing title.  
  
"Now that wasn't so hard to say, was it?" Legolas teased.  
  
Before Estel could offer a friendly jest of his own a loud incessant knocking disrupted the comfortable feeling that had fallen over the room.  
  
"Enter." Legolas called somewhat annoyed at the disturbance. It seemed duty never waited.  
  
An elf entered the room bowing respectfully to the prince.  
  
As the elf rose he locked eyes with Estel, a dark look coming over his face.  
  
The young boy felt a shiver run up his spine and positioned himself slightly so the prince stood between him and the intruder.  
  
"I'm sorry to disturb you prince Legolas. I just checked in with your father and found him quite distraught that his fire had not been set this morning. He awoke sure some evil had befallen Mirkwood and nearly ended up in the hall of Mandos. I tried to calm him as best I could, but I'm afraid he's still quite jumpy from the ordeal. It seems the worthless slave boy sent to do the task was shirking his duties. I assured the king the little miscreant would be punished to within an inch of his life."  
  
Estel gulped fearfully as he realized the king's fire had completely slipped his mind and now the king's wraith would be upon him. He'd seen the king angry and paled as he imagined it directed at him.  
  
And now Firithgalad had come for him.  
  
Legolas was a bit disturbed by the look on Estel's face. If he's been frightened around Legolas he was utterly petrified now. What had Firithgalad done to the boy to elicit such fear the prince couldn't help but wonder.  
  
"And now it seems the little trouble maker is in here disturbing the prince. Come here boy. I'm going to relieve you of that defiant streak of yours once and for all. You will learn your place and start respecting your betters." Firithgalad threatened impatiently, his voice demanding complete obedience.  
  
Estel waveringly came foreword his eyes wide with terror.  
  
"I...I'm sorry Firithgalad. I forgot. I...I didn't mean to." The young human quivered.  
  
"You'll be sorry soon enough you lazy edain." The elf soldier spit out in disgust. "And it's master Firithgalad to you...slave."  
  
Legolas halted Estel's forward progress with a stilling arm before the boy could walk past him. He couldn't let Firithgalad take the boy. Legolas had a disquieting feeling in the pit of his stomach that warned against such action. He felt an unquenchable need to protect the boy from one of his own guards and he couldn't quite explain why. He just knew things would not bode well for the boy if he allowed Firithgalad to have him.  
  
"Come Firithgalad. I'm sure my father can live without his precious fire for one day." Legolas answered conversationally distracting the elf guard from Estel, his current quarry. "Surely your not telling me king Thranduil, a great king and warrior, was whimpering like an elfling just because he woke without his fire once in a century. I'm sure he can survive the day without having his precious fire without suffering any ill effects don't you think Firithgalad?"  
  
"Y...yes of course my lord. I did not mean to imply..." Firithgalad stuttered out uncertainly.  
  
Legolas had never questioned his actions before and the warning look in Legolas' eyes frightened him.  
  
"And besides it was not the boy's fault. I had need of him." Legolas interrupted. "So if anyone was to blame it is I."  
  
"Y...yes. I mean n...no... of course my Lord" Firithgalad stuttered unsure how to respond. "Allow me to remove this filthy human for your sight my lord if you have no other need of him. I will see to it personally that he gets back to his chores and disturbs you no further." The elf soldier replied seeking to remove himself from the prince's intense and quite discomforting gaze.  
  
Firithgalad reached forward and grabbed Estel tightly by the wrist and began forcibly dragging the slave boy from the elf prince's chamber.  
  
The boy paralyzed with fright could merely watch with a detached kind of horror as he was pulled from the safety of the prince's chambers.  
  
Estel was certain that regardless of the prince's defense he would still be punished and with horrifying clarity the human boy knew he was powerless to stop it.  
  
"Halt right there Firithgalad." Legolas commanded.  
  
Firithgalad stopped immediately his back going rigid at the prince's command. He turned back around to face him liege pulling the boy possessively close to him.  
  
"Yes prince Legolas?"  
  
"I still have need of the boy. Leave him."  
  
"Are you sure my lord?" Firithgalad blurted out hastily reluctant to release his charge. "Are you questioning me Firithgalad?" Legolas asked his eyes burning dangerously as the act of insubordination.  
  
"N...no of course not." Firithgalad fumbled taken aback by the prince's powerful countenance.  
  
"Good then you are dismissed."  
  
"Thank you my lord." Firithgalad bent awkwardly relinquishing his hold on the human boy. As he turned the doorknob preparing to exit the elf prince called him back again.  
  
"Oh and Firithgalad."  
  
"Yes your highness was there something else?" The elf guard turned to face the prince once more an expression of curiosity on his face.  
  
"Don't you think you owe an apology?"  
  
"Of course. Do forgive me Prince Legolas. I grievously apologize for disrupting you."  
  
"No not me...Estel."  
  
"Estel...my lord?" Firithgalad exclaimed in confusion. "Who is Est..."  
  
"The boy. I have altered his name, but slightly. Surely you can still recognize it easily enough. The other one, Estelless was really quite unbecoming. Really hardly a name you would give anyone, don't you agree? I don't know what fool of an elf came up with such a name even an orc could be more creative, but you will let the staff know of the change, wont you?"  
  
"Certainly my lord." Firithgalad bristled at the insult for it had been his older brother Rovan and himself who had came up with the name deciding it quite funny. "I will inform them immediately."  
  
"After you've apologized of course." Legolas interjected persistently pleased his insult had had its intended effect.  
  
"But why?" Firithgalad complained begrudgingly.  
  
"Because you have accused him of a misdeed he did not commit, slandering his character in the process." Legolas replied as though speaking to a small child. "The boy as you can clearly see did nothing wrong as you have falsely accused him."  
  
"But lord he is edain." Firithgalad spit out bitterly. "A mere slave, hardly above notice."  
  
"You forget who you speak to. Just because he is a slave and an edain doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings. And it does not mean he does not deserve respect. It certainly judges the content of one's character when one does not admit their faults. A fault of character unbecoming a warrior of Mirkwood I would think and no doubt King Thranduil would as well." "Prince Legolas. I beg your forgiveness for my indiscretion. I did not mean to offend you with my disrespect."  
  
"Oh I know what you meant Firithgalad." Legolas narrowed his eyes accusingly. "Now give your apology and you may be on your way."  
  
Firithgalad turned furious eyes on the young slave boy. It was this filthy edain's fault. He'd shamed him in the prince's eyes and it was the human's blood he would take in payment. The boy would learn his place and how very insignificant he was before his heart stilled. This inferior edain would know more pain than he'd ever imagined, begging for mercy before Firithgalad sent him to his death.  
  
It was these thoughts only that kept the elf guard in check as he muttered out an insincere apology.  
  
"Sorry slave." He muttered making a hasty retreat before the prince could reprimand him further.  
  
Estel stood on quavering legs unable to stop the uncontrollable shivers that still wracked his scrawny frame even though Firithgalad was gone.  
  
As he'd made eye contact with the elf guard he'd been blown away with the raw hate in the elf's eyes. Estel had not imagined Firithgalad could possibly hate him more than he already did and was appalled to learn how very wrong he was.  
  
The young slave was certain the prince had only given him a small reprieve from the elf warrior's wraith.  
  
The boy had seen his own doom reflected in those cold gray slated eyes promising him torment beyond any he could yet imagine. Estel shivered as he felt a wave of impending doom wash over him.  
  
"Are you all right young one?" Legolas asked in concern, as the boy's shivers seemed to only have gotten worse since Firithgalad departed.  
  
Estel visibly forced himself to cease his trembles and after a few deep meditative breaths returned to the calm relaxed state he had grown accustomed to while in the prince's presence.  
  
Legolas was one of the few people he felt he could trust explicitly, a reasoning he could not quite explain so much as sense to be true.  
  
"Yes I am well Legolas, Thank you." Estel replied as Legolas continued to stare at him expectantly as though awaiting a response.  
  
"Thank me for what?" The prince asked in confusion.  
  
"For defending me. Most elves would not stand up for a lowly slave as you have done." Estel replied with overwhelming gratitude in his eyes. "I am not worthy of such effort. I am but a worthless slave. If I had been paying attention I would have remembered, but I was just being a stupid edain again. Now the king is angry with me and I will surely incur his wraith. You should have let Firithgalad have me. I deserve to be punished for my thoughtlessness. I pray your father will not be angry with you for coming to my aid. I would not see you blamed for my inattention."  
  
"I can assure you young one my father's "wraith" as you so elegantly put it is reserved for orcs, addle minded advisors, and wayward young princes, not young human children who make mistakes. I am sure Estel he has forgotten all about it, Firithgalad was merely being melodramatic. I imagine father probably hardly even noticed." Legolas smiled reassuringly at the boy patting him on the shoulder affectionately. "And what is this about you being a worthless slave. Where have you gotten that idea?" The prince demanded sternly.  
  
"Because that is what I am." The boy replied solemnly. "A slave. Nothing of any importance. Merely a tool to be used. Firithgalad and Rovan have both said as much." Estel turned his head down in shame unable to face the prince's searching gaze.  
  
Legolas placed his hand gently under the boy's chin forcing him to meet the prince's unwavering gaze.  
  
"Well their both wrong. You are not worthless. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise. You have a powerful heart and I sense great things in your destiny. You may be many things, but I am certain worthless shall never be among them."  
  
As Legolas finished his diatribe he realized he meant every word of it.  
  
This boy had a grand destiny yet unrevealed that was woven to him like a blanket. The child contained a power, a light that had yet to be fully revealed, but once done Legolas knew would rival the very power of the Valar.  
  
Estel smiled shyly back at the prince his cheeks red with modesty at the seldom unheard of words of praise.  
  
"And it is I that should be thanking you." Legolas added. "I have been caught up for so long in my own despair that I had lost my reason to live. I had forgotten about goodness in the world, lost in misery and darkness. I could not feel or love or dream. I could not longer hear the song of life that flows throughout the earth filling elven ears with joy and laughter. But you have given me hope again. I can finally breathe again." Legolas took in a deep breath filling his lungs with the scent of life. "Thank you my young friend for setting me free."  
  
Estel was left speechless by the impassioned speech. To be given the credit of redeeming a soul was nearly overwhelming.  
  
And to be called friend by an elf, a prince at that was simple unthinkable.  
  
"I did not give you hope Legolas. You had it locked way in here the whole time." Estel replied thoughtfully as he laid his hand briefly over the prince's heart. "I only helped you find it and unlock it again, is all."  
  
"Your help was invaluable all the same." Legolas insisted in the face of the human's modesty.  
  
The boy's face reddened more as he looked with bizarre interest at his feet which he shuffled about nervously unsure what to say in the face of such praise.  
  
Legolas glanced at the window and was astonished to discover the sun was already quite high up in the sky. He had not realized how long they had been talking. His father would come looking for his soon.  
  
King Thranduil was very strict about Legolas coming to counsel every day and would not be pleased if Legolas should miss without good excuse.  
  
"I suppose I've kept you here long enough." Legolas replied uncertainly breaking the ackward silence.  
  
Estel's head jerked up, fear evident in his wide eyes.  
  
He had almost thought he could stay here in the prince's chambers forever. Completely safe from the lonely despair that tried to steal away his hope, a candle in a sea of darkness.  
  
He would finally be free of the constant fear of punishment and humiliation. Free from the life of a slave at last.  
  
But alas it was a childish fantasy.  
  
Eventually he would have to face harsh reality once more, face Firithgalad.  
  
The boy barred himself with resolve. He would face whatever waited for him outside these doors with his head held high. He was not worthless, the prince had told him so himself. He may have been a slave, but he still had purpose in this world. He still had hope of being more and so he could face anything.  
  
Legolas saw the distress on the young human's face when he'd even suggested at the boy leaving. The prince found himself regretting his previous statement and wished he could just let the boy hideout until he was ready. But Legolas knew he could not shirk his duties no matter how much he sought to ease the boy's fear.  
  
"I'm sorry young one." Legolas replied softly feeling a need to apologize.  
  
Apologize not just for making the boy leave, but for being unable to change a society that could not except all of the valar's creatures as equal worthy beings. Apologize because such prejudice of the races would take the innocence of a boy and leave him a shadow of the child he deserved to be.  
  
Apologize because the duties of a prince forced him to put his own people above the needs of this human boy who needed him so desperately.  
  
"Neigh Legolas. You have nothing to apologize for. I can not hide away forever. What kind of man will I someday make if I am unable to face my own fears? Neigh Legolas if I am to have this great destiny you promise me then I shall have to accept what is and merely work to make it what It should be."  
  
"You are very wise young one. I believe someday you shall indeed bring much needed change to this world and when that day comes I shall help you all I can." Legolas solemnly pledged.  
  
"And I shall hold you to it prince." Estel teased giving Legolas a mock bow.  
  
"Then I shall hold you to become a great man someday and heralding in a reign of peace and equality among the races of middle earth." Legolas countered easily a smile falling to his face.  
  
"I don't know if that's a fair trade at all." Estel pretended to be deeply perplexed, but the merriment in his eyes made his act unsuccessful. "After all you only have to help, but I on the other hand must save all of middle earth. Now does that sound fair to you?"  
  
Legolas looked thoughtful at the boy's predicament and rubbed his chin as though in deep thought on the issue.  
  
"Well how about just Mirkwood first and we can work out from there." Legolas suggested helpfully. "If we work one land at a time I think we could obtain world peace in my lifetime."  
  
"But you're immortal. You have an endless lifetime. I on the other hand have a much more mortal life span to consider." Estel pretend pouted stamping his foot like a disgruntled horse. "I want to live to see world peace too you know."  
  
"Oh very well I suppose if we worked overtime and weekends we should perhaps have united all of middle earth by then." Legolas bantered. "Is that acceptable to his majesty Lord Estel hero of the free world." Legolas teased returning a mock bow to his young friend.  
  
"Yes I suppose that will do." Estel smiled back cheekily.  
  
"This whole mortality thing really is quite an inconvenience. Makes saving the world twice as hard." Legolas muttered under his lips knowing full well Estel heard every word of it.  
  
"I beg your pardon prince Legolas for my mortal coil. When next I see the Valar I shall be sure to take it up with him. Perhaps while I am there he will explain to me why it is elves are so darn arrogant and why they are so obsessed with their hair. You would think that beings who have lived for thousands of years seeing all the great wonders of the world could find something more interesting than themselves." Estel laughed at his own jest.  
  
"Yes well perhaps when next I see the Valar I shall ask him why humans seem to attract dirt to them like bees to honey."  
  
"That is because we have not the time nor patience to partake in such foolish grazing."  
  
"Grazing!" Legolas replied in shock sending Estel into a fit of laughter at the prince's gawk-eyed appearance. "Elves do not graze human! We're not oliphants."  
  
"Could have fooled me." Estel taunted back.  
  
"Why you." Legolas lightly threatened as he pretended to chase after the boy keeping a glint of play into his eyes and movements lest the boy get the wrong impression and become frightened once more.  
  
"Off with you now." Legolas smiled shooing the boy along gently. "And get some food in you before you do anything if anyone tries to stop you tell them to take it up with me. You look like you haven't eaten in days. Your so pale looking. I'm amazed you've managed to stay upright this long."  
  
Estel blushed but quickly averted his face lest the prince realize how true his words were.  
  
Estel wished to cause the prince no more worries about his mistreatment.  
  
Estel appreciated Legolas' concern for his well being, but the boy knew the prince's interference would only make things worse for him with Firithgalad and Rovan and he knew it was bad enough already.  
  
So Estel hastily started to make his way down the hall lest his secret be revealed and started to make his way to the kitchens.  
  
"And Estel." Legolas called down the hallway. "When your done eating have the healing ward take a look at that leg." The prince called out before turning back into his chambers to prepare for the day.  
  
Estel smiled inwardly realizing the prince had realized he was injured all along. You couldn't get anything by an elf it seemed.   
  
Hello, good morning, how you been?  
  
Yesterday left my head kicked in  
  
I never, never thought that  
  
I would fall like that  
  
Never knew that I could hurt this bad  
  
I'm learning to breathe  
  
I'm learning to crawl  
  
I'm finding that you and you alone can break my fall  
  
I'm living again, awake and alive  
  
I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies  
  
These abundant skies  
  
Yeah, abundant skies, yeah (Switchfoot: Learning to Breathe)  
  
Legolas dropped his smile as he turned back into his chambers away from the prying eyes of his new human companion.  
  
He feared for the boy's safety.  
  
Estel had tried to hide his face when Legolas joked that he looked like he hadn't eaten in days, but Legolas had seen the hungry longing in those two silver orbs. Estel truly hadn't eaten in days.  
  
Who could deprive a child of food? Who could let anyone starve that way?  
  
The boy had been so pale, so weak looking as though every step he took was an effort in and of itself.  
  
And what of the boy's strange injury? The red marker on the child's pant's leg easily pointed out all was not right if the limp itself did not give the grievous injury away. What could have caused such an injury?  
  
Legolas hadn't seen the actually injury, but he had his suspicions as to its instigator. Yet he feared to tread such ground. Had the boy been chained? Like an animal? It made Legolas sick to even think anyone could treat another living creature that way. Who could be so cold heart, so cruel?  
  
Legolas stared resolutely out the window making a silent promise he would help this young human slave boy in anyway he could, but he couldn't help but wonder....  
  
Would it be enough? 


	3. Chapter Two: Slave Prince

For Summary, Disclaimer, and Rating see Prologue.  
  
Author's Note: I'm sorry I'm late with my post. My goal was to have it up last Friday, but we all see how that went. I also wanted to apologize for the giant flashback I stuck in the story. I don't know how I ended up with such a long flash back, but it just kinda happened. It does have a Gilranean, Arathorn, and Aragorn view point so if you don't like Gilranean and Arathorn you may not enjoy it as much as the rest of the story. I thought it gave a little more background information giving my slightly altered version of how Aragorn's parents were killed. I tried to make it touching and sought to add some emotional appeal so I hope you do enjoy it anyway.  
  
Slave to Hope  
  
Chapter Two: Slave Prince  
  
What's wrong with the world, mama  
  
People livin' like they ain't got no mamas  
  
I think the whole world addicted to the drama  
  
Only attracted to things that'll bring you trauma  
  
Overseas, yeah, we try to stop terrorism  
  
But we still got terrorists here livin'  
  
In the USA, the big CIA  
  
The Bloods and The Crips and the KKK  
  
But if you only have love for your own race  
  
Then you only leave space to discriminate  
  
And to discriminate only generates hate  
  
And when you hate then you're bound to get irate, yeah  
  
Badness is what you demonstrate  
  
And that's exactly how anger works and operates  
  
N, you gotta have love just to set it straight  
  
Take control of your mind and meditate  
  
Let your soul gravitate to the love, y'all, y'all  
  
(Black Eyed Peas: Where is the Love?)  
  
Estel exited the prince's room casting a quick suspicious glance at the king's bedchambers, feeling immensely relieved to find the door firmly closed and none about. Estel allowed himself a breath of ease as he made his way towards the kitchen for a much-needed lunch.  
  
The boy allowed himself a small blush as his stomach growled in anticipation, of the promised meal, and Estel couldn't help, but smile as he imagined all the delicious treats awaiting him. Though at this point anything sounded good to the famished young boy.  
  
Nana worked in the kitchen so perhaps he could convince her to sneak him one of the king's desert pastries. Estel's mouth watered as his senses were overwhelmed with the imaginary flavor of strawberry tart warm and comforting as it slowly melted into his mouth tingling his taste buds.  
  
But Wait, Nana!  
  
Oh no! What had he been thinking? Or not thinking?  
  
Estel amended worriedly. He had been locked up for two days now after his last little escape attempt and now his Nana must be worried sick about him.  
  
Estel's imaginary tart turned to ash in his mouth, as he felt overcome with guilt. Since he'd been freed this morning he hadn't even thought of her. He'd been so sore and so busy just trying to catch up on his chores that he had forgotten completely about her. He should have went to her first thing this morning, assured her he was all right.  
  
The rational part of the young boy's mind tried to reason that detouring from his duties would most certainly have left him irreversibly behind in his chores and yet he still couldn't shake the heart wrenching guilt he felt for leaving his Nana worried for so long. Even if it would have undoubtedly resulted in further punishment had he fell behind in his duties in order to reassure her of his well being. Firithgalad always did jump at the opportunity to find him slacking.  
  
Which he had Estel reminded himself as he shuddered at his recent encounter with Firithgalad in the prince's bedchambers.  
  
Estel could still envision the unspoken threat in Firithgalad's eyes as he had been forced to apologize. The elf guard would not let such an act go unpunished of that Estel was sure. The boy glanced frantically around suddenly expecting the irate elf to appear at any moment to exact his revenge called by the child's thoughts alone.  
  
Estel felt his heart pounding erratically in his chest seemingly trying to break free of some invisible restraints so it could hide itself from Firithgalad's wraith.  
  
But where would it hide from an elf anyway? Estel thought smugly. Especially if it continued to beat so loudly.  
  
No doubt the whole household could hear Estel's internal struggle. The human slave boy took a few deep breaths trying to still his heart lest he bring down the whole household of superior hearing elves down upon him.  
  
Estel forcibly pushed thoughts of the Firithgalad to the back of his mind refusing to acknowledge the dark elf guard's existence for the moment. There was nothing he could do about it now and worrying would certainly not improve the situation. He would face Firithgalad when the time came, but now he needed to regain his much-depleted energy as well as to find his nana and assure her that he was well. How he was going to hide the bloody pants leg was beyond him though. She always did overreact to little things like that. But that was just another thing he would deal with when he got to it.  
  
First things first. Find nana to assure her of Estel's continued ability to breathe. Second eat until his stomach burst.  
  
Estel's stomach took that opportunity to growl loudly in protest against foregoing the much-needed meal even if it was for good reason. And yet even as Estel tried to once more fantasize about all the delicious treats waiting in the kitchen he suddenly didn't seem to have an appetite regardless of his stomach thought so. What did it know anyway? Estel reasoned. "It had a one track mind."  
  
No matter how hard Estel tried to distract himself with the dry humor he unwittingly clung to in times of despair he just couldn't seem to shake the feeling he was walking towards his last meal?  
  
Estel shuddered as a sense of dread washed over him.  
  
Stop it he chided himself angrily. Don't think like that. Everything would be fine. He just needed to avoid Firithgalad for a few days. The elf guard would forget about the whole incident soon enough...after all Estel was just a lowly slave, beyond thought or notice.  
  
And yet with all Estel's reassurances he knew with a certainty that he was fooling himself if he didn't believe the vengeful elf would not retaliate.  
  
But what's the worst he could do to me?  
  
Estel tried to persuade his panicking mind. No more naïve words have ever been spoken.  
  
"Estel. Where have you been?"  
  
A voice called out jarring Estel from his own dark thoughts.  
  
The boy looked up to catch site of a middle-aged woman walking briskly towards him carrying a tray of tea and cookies. The woman had her hair tied loosely in a bun yet a few amber tresses had fallen lose of the hair tie and taken residence upon her face lying annoyingly in her eyes. Seeming to know the women's hands were full and could do nothing to remove the infuriating hairs. The woman was not overly attractive, but in her youth it was obvious that she had once borne a grace and beauty highly revered by human standards if not elven. She had aged too quickly living a life of hardship and hard work ripening a youthful face until it was creased with lines of sadness and worry.  
  
She wore a pale gray smock similar to Estel's own worn through attire. It was truly most unbecoming on her leaving much to be desired. While most ladies of the age were adorn in gowns of pure silk she wore nothing more then a pile of rags. Degraded down in such way that she was not even considered a true woman in an age of chivalry when women were revered and honored as precious heirlooms to be cherished and protected. While she was seen as nothing more than a worthless unengendered slave to be ignored unless a male's pleasure drives should get the best of him one night. Though it did not happen often for Elves often cherished love relationships as rare and valuable experiences not to be tarnished by sharing ones bed with a slave, worst yet a human slave.  
  
"Nana." Estel replied as he recognized the approaching figure relieved it was not Firithgalad as he feared and quite pleased as he was quite sure his stomach also was that he would no longer have to hunt down his much beloved caregiver.  
  
The boy ran the rest of the way to meet the woman hugging her tightly like she was his very lifeline. Rosaline a bit surprised at the child's bizarre reaction quickly lifted up the tray she carried lest the clumsy boy knock it over in his race to reach her.  
  
Only moments before she had been quite upset with the boy. He'd worried her to death when he hadn't come back to the slave quarters. When was it two nights ago...three?  
  
And then Firithgalad came into the kitchens this morning demanding to know where they boy was.... What was she to think?  
  
The elf guard frightened her. His eyes always held a malicious light as though he enjoyed the suffering of others. He looked at her with those cold unmerciful eyes like she was a speck of dirt to kick under the rug. He didn't see her as a living being, but a tool or a toy to be played with and it disturbed her greatly. He was a cruel elf and she had always went out of her way to avoid him whenever possible.  
  
But Estel, poor Estel.  
  
She'd warned him to stay away from Firithgalad, but the boy was stubborn, just like his father. He wouldn't let anyone tell him what to do even his own family. He refused to back down, refused to submit. And of how it seemed to irk the elf guard. She'd seen that look of hate in the Firithgalad's eyes as he irrationally punished the boy at every opportunity. He couldn't stand a slave to be so defiant so...unbroken. And so the elf guard took every opportunity to rectify the situation.  
  
Rosaline admired Estel's courage, his unwavering hope his tireless faith in goodness. But she feared for him. Slaves didn't seem to survive long with that kind of attitude. Very few slaves were ever killed...the elves were too compassionate for that... or at least they liked to believe they were. However often the uncontrollable slaves tended to disappear...  
  
That's no doubt what would have happened to young Estel's father all those years ago. Rosaline speculated sadly. Firithgalad hated him perhaps even more than the boy.  
  
Arathorn, Estel's father, had also been a kind compassionate man. He treated the slaves with the utmost respect and protected them all. He'd taken them all under his wing, including herself, on many occasions taking the punishment meant for another slave with his defiant behavior. His eyes burned with the same passion the same love for life she often saw in young Estel's eyes.  
  
It was a look most slaves lost very quickly as the days trudged on.  
  
Hope became a fleeting dream from a world long ago...  
  
But it never left Arathorn or his offspring. They both seemed to possess some unlimited well of hope and happiness that kept them from falling into despair that most slaves were so prone to.  
  
Slaves to their own hope perhaps.  
  
Rosaline smiled fondly at the boy as he still continued to hug her tightly after so many minutes. No she could not stay angry with him. No matter how many times the child seemed to get himself into some scrape or another.  
  
If nothing else she owed it to the boy's long deceased parents and she loved the child. Loved him like he was her own son or rather the son she had never had.  
  
"Estel my child." She whispered gently as the boy buried his face deep into her clothes holding her tightly as though he intended to stand so forever if he could.  
  
"I'm so sorry nana." Estel murmured into her blouse. "I didn't mean to make you worry."  
  
Rosaline smiled gently. The boy was always so selfless always beating himself up over the suffering of others.  
  
"Where have you been my child. I've been so worried. I thought.... I thought I'd lost you." She choked out, tears glistening in her eyes. She'd thought him perhaps dead, disappeared like so many others.  
  
"I...I tried to runaway again." Estel replied refusing to meet her gaze bowing his head in disgrace as he loosened his hold stepping back a pace. "I was put in...in the dark room again."  
  
"Oh Estel." Rosaline sighed in disappointment as she wrapped him in her hands as best she could offering comfort to the obviously distraught boy.  
  
"Why must you provoke them so. You know Firithgalad jumps at the opportunity to have you in trouble. You must be more careful. They are elves young one. They can see and hear things with skills far surpassing us mortals. You cannot possible hope to escape them. You must learn to be content and stop resisting them so."  
  
"I cannot." Estel replied looking up his eyes burning with defiance. They had this conversation many times and it always seemed to end up this way. Estel refusing to accept his life as a slave and Rosaline trying to protect the boy she loved though he would not see reason.  
  
"I cannot live this way...I feel like a bird trapped in a cage. The walls close in on me stealing away the very air from my lungs." Estel argued as he started pacing back and forth like a caged Wolf. "Don't you see Nana? I will die here. I cannot live behind these walls chained like a dog and treated as less."  
  
"Please Estel It is folly to continue the futile escape attempts. Someday they will get tired of your antics and they will leave more permanent scars or perhaps you will just disappear like all the others." Is it worth your life for some hopeless dream?" Rosaline pleaded desperately begging the boy to see logic.  
  
"Better to die than to never live." Estel shot back. "And it's not just a hopeless dream. You have given up hope haven't you? I can see it in your eyes. They're cold now, lifeless. You have forgotten about freedom. You have forgotten what my parents died for."  
  
"I have not forgotten." Rosaline weakly defended. No not forgotten...forfeited. She thought to herself knowing how very true the boy was. She had given up, but that didn't mean she was giving in. "I cannot forgot." She ranted hating to be reminded of that fateful day when Estel's parents left this world for another. "For it burns in my mind as I see those still cold bodies. I loved them more than you can know. And I cannot bear to see if happen again. I can't bear to see you join them so soon, so young. I can't lose you too." She choked out brokenly as she fought back more tears. "Have you forgotten what they sacrificed to keep you safe. They would not want you to lose your life in a foolhardy escape attempt. Please if you won't do it for me then do it for them."  
  
"Please Nana do not ask something of me I cannot give. Hope is all I have now. If I lose that I'll lose myself." Estel whispered hanging his head ashamed of the pain he caused his Nana powerless to ease her worries for to do so would mean his death. He could not live without hope of this he was sure. He was irrevocably bound to it like a heart to the chest. If either should be parted both would inevitably die.  
  
Nana smiled sadly as she looked into those tormented cloudy gray eyes. No matter how much she wanted it she knew it was a losing battle she fought. And one she could not win lest she lose it all in the end.  
  
So she did the only thing she could do. She kissed him on the cheek and let her misgivings go offering him unconditional love and support as she always had and always would. She only prayed it would be enough.  
  
"If you've been in the dark room the past three days then what is this about Firithgalad looking for you this morning?" Rosaline asked half- teasing and half-concerned.  
  
Estel's face immediately fell at the mention of the elf guards name and started to fidget under his nana's intense stare.  
  
"I...I wasn't in the dark room today. Rovan let me all to do my chores." Estel replied lamely.  
  
"Yes...and" Rosaline bid he continue while her heart jumped into her throat. Whenever Estel tried to sidetalk something it indubitably meant he had done something to get himself into trouble again. The boy had been in enough trouble over the years that the signs were quite clear.  
  
"And I went to the prince's room to...to rekindle his fire. But he was already awake. He started talking to me and....and I lost track of time. Firithgalad finally found me in the prince's room because I...I" Estel started to tremble as he replayed recent events in his head. "I forgot to start the king's fire this morning. But the prince wouldn't let him punish me he even made him apologize for calling me names. And now...now he's mad at me. I just know it nana. I didn't mean to get him in trouble nana honest." Estel quickly recounted his breath coming out heavily his cheeks red from exertion as he finished.  
  
Rosaline just stared at the child silently taking in all he had narrated and she couldn't help but get a sense of unease. Firithgalad would not be pleased with this turn of events...no not at all. She felt panic overtake her. What if the elf guard came looking for Estel...sought vengeance on the poor boy. She feared young Estel could very well be in for more than just a whipping should Firithgalad gets his hands on the boy. She had to hide young Estel for a while until Firithgalad calmed down a bit lest he do something rash.  
  
Just as Rosaline had come up with a course of action she thought might work a wave of absolute terror ran up her spine. Like out of some cruel nightmare Firithgalad came walking down the hallway eyes blazing with an insane fire.  
  
With trembling suddenly weak fingers Rosaline dropped the tray she carried sending tea and china clattering to the ground. A look of horror washed over the woman's face, but young Estel didn't notice as hot tea scalded his arm causing him to hiss in pain. Estel hastily crouched on the floor collecting up the broken china and carelessly threw it back upon the fallen tray.  
  
The clumsy young boy had broken enough things in his lifetime to know the serious punishment one could expect from getting caught.  
  
The young slave boy did not fear so much for himself he had lived through many beatings in his lifetime and would live through one more if need be. But he couldn't bear to see the woman who had almost become a mother to him cruelly whipped and silently prayed he could clean up this mess before discovery. Estel tried to ignore his throbbing arm as best he could intent upon this one task for failure would cost more than he could endure.  
  
After a few seconds reality seemed to finally catch up with the frantic boy's mind halting him at his task. A premonition of fear washed over him, an instinct previously pushed dormant to the back of his mind in the thick of the crisis. But now that he had taken a moment to calm himself the instinct was given free reign. Danger approached.  
  
Estel could barely make out the light pattering sound as it came confidently closer. And then the footsteps stopped a shadow falling over the kneeling human boy.  
  
A muscular arm shot out faster than the mortal eye could see grasping painful around Estel's burnt arm. The boy let out a heavy breath as he was reminded of his painful injury in the most unpleasant way.  
  
"Get up slave." A scathing voice seethed out behind him while the muscular arm yanked him roughly up.  
  
Estel twisted to face his detainer, his wrist still held in a vice-like grip, already knowing with gruesome certainty whom he would find.  
  
Firithgalad towered menacingly over the boy his eyes filled with a murderous rage Estel shuddered as he locked eye contact with those cold deadly orbs and started to pull away. But the elf's grip would not yield only tightening further pulling him closer to the enraged elf.  
  
"You've caused trouble for the last time." Firithgalad sneered.  
  
Estel couldn't help but flinch away at the elf hate filled words.  
  
"Pl...please master." Nana pleased as her maternal instincts to protect the young boy overcame her own fear. "It was not the child's fault. I...I dropped the tray. He was only He...helping me cl...clean it up. I should be the one punished m.... my lord." Nana bowed submissively.  
  
"It is not of this mater I speak, human." Firithgalad glowered angrily at her interference. "This useless troublemaker," Firithgalad shook the frightened boy roughly to emphasize whom he spoke of, "was caught in the prince's room this morning shirking his duties."  
  
"N...no." Estel protested feebly his eyes wide with distress. "I...it didn't happen like that." Estel's eyes turned towards his nana pleaded with her to believe him. He wouldn't lie to her...he's never lie.  
  
Firithgalad grabbed Estel around the neck not enough to cut off the boy's air, but enough to forcibly yank the boy's head in his direction  
  
"Hold your tongue slave before you lose it." Firithgalad threatened. "You made a fatal mistake when you embarrassed me in front of the prince. I think it's time we took a little trip outside...to the forest." Nana gasped in horror. In her forty years as a slave every so often Firithgalad would take a slave, normally the most defiant ones, out into the woods where the slaves were never seen from again.  
  
None knew what became of the slaves, but it was easy to imagine for Firithgalad always took a full quiver of arrows even though he never traveled far from the palace. Some of the stable slaves even claimed to have seen blood upon his dagger upon returning from these impromptu little trips.  
  
"Please no. Have mercy. He is just a child. I beg you do not harm him." Nana cried out frantically.  
  
"Step aside slave. The boy's fate is no longer your concern." Firithgalad growled testily as he pushed past her dragging Estel harshly behind him.  
  
"No...please. You can't." Rosaline begged grabbing Firithgalad's arm trying to stop his foreword motion forgetting for the moment she was a slave and not just a frantic guardian protecting her young.  
  
Firithgalad jeered darkly at the woman's audacity before backhanding her sharply across the face.  
  
Rosaline reeled back from the blow tripping over the forgotten tea tray. As she fell her head banged against a small hallway table causing a domino effect ending with the glass vase upon said table to come crashing down upon the prone woman unconscious upon her head's impact with the table.  
  
Estel watched in silent horror as his dear nana crumbled to the group blood pulling around her head staining the carpet in a river of red.  
  
"Nana" Estel cried out pulling frantically against Firithgalad's iron tight grip trying to reach the collapsed slave woman.  
  
"Let me go." Estel struggled. "She's hurt. She needs help."  
  
Firithgalad forcibly wrenched the boy back pinning him tightly against the elf guard's chest. Estel continued to struggle desperately still intent upon getting to his nana by any means possible. Firithgalad maintaining a firm grasp on the child with ease, leaned down until his mouth lay with in ear level to the boy.  
  
"Stop your struggling slave or perhaps I will finish what I started with your "nana". And no one will even care that she's dead because she's just a worthless human slave. Just like you."  
  
"No...no please." Estel whimpered his eyes stinging with silent tears, shaking his head despairingly while his nails bit into his palms drawing tiny droplets of blood from his fisted little hands. The boy immediately stopped struggling and turned wide frightened eyes on the elf guard.  
  
"Please don't hurt her Firithgalad. I...I'll be good. I won't cause trouble." Estel supplicated.  
  
"Come along than and keep your mouth shut. Step out of line just once and I promise you she won't live to see tomorrow boy. Perhaps I'll punish the rest of your little slave friends too. You know what I'm capable of human so don't push me. I'd be only too happy to have a little fun with your slave family tonight."  
  
Estel's shoulders stooped in defeat his eyes dropping in a rare act of submission.  
  
"I'll do whatever you want. Just please don't hurt them." Estel whispered melancholianly. Firithgalad allowed himself a smile of triumphant as he steered the boy down the hallway, savoring the human's despair as he led him out the palace doors. They encountered few passerbies as the pair walked along and ever fewer who even paid them a mind. Most people made it a point to avoid Firithgalad on general principal be it human or elf.  
  
Estel didn't even notice where they were going or what was happening as he kept his eyes firmly planted on the ground allowing himself to be submissively drug along.  
  
As they reached the palace gates Estel looked up curiously at the heavy doors blocking their path.  
  
Where were they going? Hadn't Firithgalad mentioned something about the forest?  
  
Estel felt a flutter of worry flutter through his heart somehow knowing that behind these doors only lay heartache for him.  
  
Estel felt an overwhelming urge to struggle out of Firithgalad's grip and run as hard and fast as he was able, but even if Estel could get free he knew he could not. His mind turned to his nana and the other slaves he had come to know as his family. He couldn't let them suffer for him. He must go with the elf guard for their sake. But Estel couldn't help but wonder if he would ever see them again.  
  
So caught up in his own thoughts Estel didn't even hear Firithgalad command the gates to open.  
  
Estel cast one quick final glance at the palace and all he had ever known before the gates slammed resoundingly behind Firithgalad and himself. He suddenly felt more alone that had ever felt before. Firithgalad jerked the slave boy forward pulling him from his morose thoughts and led the child deeper into the forest.  
  
Estel looked around anxiously. Suddenly he was afraid of every dark corner, every rustling tree, every buzzing insect. The boy felt that at any moment a band of orcs would materialize from out of the dark recesses of the forest.  
  
"Where are we going? Where are you taking me?" Estel asked fretfully as Firithgalad let him deeper and deeper in the darkening forest.  
  
"You'll find out soon enough...keep moving." Firithgalad demanded as he pushed the boy roughly foreword.  
  
The young human lost him footing with the extra momentum and tumbled precariously over some roughly grown tree roots.  
  
Estel let out a startled yelp as he fell to the ground his wrist making a painful cracking sound that seemed to echo eerily around the forest.  
  
Estel grabbed his now obviously broken wrist holding it protectively to his chest fighting back burning tears as he tried to control the overwhelming pain that left him feeling dizzy and nauseous.  
  
Firithgalad swiftly grabbed the scruff of Estel's shirt brutally pulling the boy up unconcerned about the child's injury.  
  
"You humans are so fragile. How your weak race ever survived so long is beyond me. Get going I don't have all day to listen to your crying." Firithgalad thrust the boy coldly foreword once more nearly sending the young boy to the forest floor again.  
  
After regaining his footing Estel continued onward at Firithgalad's prodding still clutching his wrist guardingly trying to overcome gut wrenching pain associated with it.  
  
Finally when Estel thought he could go no further Firithgalad stopped in a small clearing shoving Estel down beside a tree.  
  
The boy dragged himself as far away from Firithgalad as he could leaning his back against the tree for support. Estel knew better than to try and escape. Firithgalad was far faster than him and unquestionably more familiar with the woods seeing as Estel had only been in this forest once before...  
  
Estel looked around the small clearing wondering why it looked so familiar. He shook his head furiously trying to reason that he couldn't possibly know the place. It was just that all forest looked the same.  
  
Firithgalad was busy pulling different items from his nap sack when he offered the boy a cursory glance.  
  
"Do you know this place boy? I can see it in your eyes. It feels familiar, doesn't it? As well is should. This is where your parent's bodies were found. Your mother was tied to that very tree her throat slit, eyes open wide with fear. Yep those orcs really roughed her up. And your father. Do you remember him? Always causing trouble just like you. Tried to band the slaves together. Always thought he was too good for slavery...always talking back, acting so high and mighty. I probably would have killed him myself if the orcs hadn't got to him first. I would have loved to make him scream watched the defiance in his eyes die away. But I guess you'll have to do won't you?" Firithgalad smiled as the boy trembled slightly at the admonition. "You should have seen him when we found. Well I guess you did seeing as you were there and all." Firithgalad laughed at his own joke. "He put up quite a fight, but he still went down. Just like all you humans do eventually one way or another. Looked like he was trying to protect that pretty little wife of his when he went too. Shame it was too late by then. They shot him right in the eye. Probably died crying out for his wide and his little edain son.  
  
Firithgalad continued talking, but Estel was no longer listening. It became nothing more than an annoying buzz in the background of his own thoughts as long repressed memories came back with striking clarity...  
  
People killin', people dyin'  
  
Children hurt and you hear them cryin'  
  
Can you practice what you preach  
  
And would you turn the other cheek  
  
Father, Father, Father help us  
  
Send us some guidance from above  
  
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'  
  
Where is the love (Love)  
  
Where is the love (The love)  
  
Where is the love (The love)  
  
Where is the love  
  
The love, the love  
(Black Eyed Peas: Where is the Love?)  
  
"Aragorn...Aragorn my son, awaken." A dark haired woman gently shook a sleeping child.  
  
A small face turned towards the voice with bleary eyes sleep still firmly grasping the small form crouched on a small palate set in the corner of the room.  
  
"Mama." The young child mumbled out as he rubbed furiously at his eyes. He blinked his eyes a few times before turning to look at his mother who was busily walking around the room shoving different objects in a small bag.  
  
Sensing the boy's eyes upon her the woman turned from her frantic task and smiled gently at the tassel headed boy.  
  
"It is time to wake my sweet child. We have much to do today." She whispered melodiously.  
  
"But mama it is too early." The young human whined softly. "The dawn has not yet risen. We're not suppose to get up until the sun does...the elfs says so. And you always says to listen to the elfs mama." The boy tried to reason.  
  
"Shh..." The woman chided softly as she approached the small boy. The mother brushed her hands through the child's dark brown curls affectionately. "We must be quiet my love. We do not want to wake the others." The woman whispered as she nodded at the other slaves curled up on the own spaces of floor. A few tossed at the disturbance, but quickly settled once more into slumber.  
  
Aragorn looked curiously at the sleeping mounds and cast his eyes down guiltily.  
  
"I'm sorry mama. I didn't mean to be so loud. The elfs just said we weren't supposed to be up so early. I don't want them to get mad. They get mad sometimes when you don't do what they say." The boy absently rubbed his thigh where a large angry bruise resided from learning this particular lesson the hard way.  
  
Gilranean, the boy's mother's, smile wavered slightly as she saw her son clutching his side. She could not protect him from the elves wraith and it frightened her more than she could bear. She could not always keep up with him and watch him, as she would like. Gilranean grew weary of seeing new wounds and scars inflicted upon her young son's flesh forever marring it's beauty while she was helpless to defend him from the harsh realities of life and slavery.  
  
But it would be different Gilranean promised herself firmly. Soon she would never be helpless again.  
  
"Mother why are you crying." Aragorn asked worriedly.  
  
Gilranean whipped quickly at the tears twinkling in her eyes, smiling reassuringly at her perceptive young son.  
  
"Because I am happy young one. Today is a very special day."  
  
"Why mama?"  
  
"It is a surprise." She teased as the young boy's eyes light up in excitement any last vestige of sleep long gone now. Child-like enthusiasm sent the child jumping from his pallet no longer able to remain still anymore.  
  
"What is it mama, what is the surprise? Why is today special?" The boy bombarded her with questions.  
  
All Gilranean's worries and fears eased from her heart as she saw the rambunctious ball of energy she called a son smile brightly at her.  
  
It made the mother all the more certain this was the right thing to do.  
  
There was always something about her innocent young child that seemed to lift her spirits and give her hope even in the darkest of hours. And she wandered how she had ever survived in this empty existence without him.  
  
With his father, Arathorn, of course. Her mind helpfully supplied.  
  
Gilranean envisioned the man she had come to call husband in her mind with his proud shoulders and his compassionate silver eyes. The only man she had ever loved and ever would, except for Aragorn of course.  
  
And she thought of how alike her husband and son were. They had the same unruly dark hair, the same silver eyes that could penetrate a soul leaving the one they penetrated feel suddenly more full rather than violated, and they both had that same unwavering sense of hope that covered them like a shield of light. On the days of their most excited...most happy she could almost swear she saw little sparks of energy radiating off their skin sometimes, especially her little Aragorn. And they both made everything so much better...finding happiness when it seemed there was no hope left.  
  
And that is why she trusted Arathorn's plan implicitly. She would follow him anyway.  
  
"Come Aragorn." Gilranean returned her attentions to her young enthusiastic son, holding her hand out for him to take. "We need to get you dressed if you want to find out the big surprise."  
  
Aragorn accepted him mother's hand allowing her to slip a fresh shirt and pants over his scrawny frame. Gilranean averted her eyes away from the various bruises and scars that adorned her son's soft flesh focusing on the task at hand. He would never be harmed again she reminded herself confidently. Things were going to be better soon...very soon.  
  
Gilranean brushed a stray curl from her child's eyes admiring what a handsome boy he had become and the handsome man she envisioned he would be someday.  
  
A light touch on Gilranean's shoulder caused her body to tense in concern. She had heard no one approach and that could mean only one thing...  
  
Gilranean turned slowly around standing protectively in front of her son, prepared for the worst.  
  
A sigh escaped the mother's lips. It was not an elf, but her dear friend Rosaline.  
  
"Nana." Aragorn smiled happily running past his mother so he could attach Rosaline's knees into a tight hug of welcome. "Mama says today is special. There is a surprise. Do you know what it is nana?"  
  
Rosaline forced a smile to her lips as she bent down so was eye level with the small child.  
  
"Why yes little one I do. Today is going to be a very special day indeed. Will you give you mother and I a moment alone so I can tell her something about the "surprise."  
  
"Ah, but nana." Aragorn protested. "I wanna know what he surprise is. Can't you at least give me a hint?"  
  
"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it? But I do have another little surprise under my pillow for a good little boy to have. Do you know any good little boy's I can give it to." Rosaline asked playfully.  
  
"Oh...me! Me!" Aragorn jumped excitedly. "I'm a good boy, aren't I mama. I helped mama with all the housework yesterday and I didn't cry once. Did I mama?"  
  
"Yes Aragorn you are a very good boy." Gilranean laughed at the boy's puppy dog eyes pleading with his mother to agree.  
  
"What is it nana. Can I have it, please?" Aragorn turned his puppy-dog eyes on Rosaline knowing how effective the look seemed to be. The eyes one could not say no to, unless one sought to break their own heart in the process.  
  
"Let us just say little one that I happen to be in possession of one of those chocolate chip peanut butter cookies the king is so fond of and a certain little boy if I am not mistake...And it's all for you."  
  
Aragorn's eyes widened with renewed excitement. Treats were a rare pleasure. It must indeed be a special day.  
  
"Thank you nana. You're the best." Aragorn smiled hugging her tightly. The boy ran to his mother not to let her be forgotten and gave her a quick hug as well.  
  
"You're the best too mama." Aragorn whispered in her ear before, running as quietly as possible mind you, to get his treat.  
  
"He is a good boy." Gilranean whispered as she watched her beloved son stealthily walking to Rosaline's bed pallet without disturbing the sleeping slaves.  
  
"Aye he is. That he is." Rosaline replied her gaze affectionately following the boy before turning serious eyes back to Gilranean. "And that is why you can't go through with this ridiculous scheme of yours. Think about it, if you get caught, what they might do to the boy."  
  
"And what might they do if we stay." Gilranean shot back stubbornly. "Have you not seen the scars, the bruises on his skin. And for what? Being a little boy."  
  
"This is fool hardy Gilranean. You can't possibly hope to escape. The chances of success are small and the risks too high." Rosaline continued refusing to be deterred.  
  
"Do you not see the risks are to high if we stay as well. I worry for Aragorn. He can not help it, but he always seems to find himself in some mischief or other. And I cannot protect him." Tears of helplessness glistened in Gilranean's eyes as she spoke. "I can not protect my own child. But I fear for Arathorn even more. Some of the elves have come to fear him and what he might do...might become. They think he intends to unite the slaves and lead a revolt against them. They send him on the most dangerous orc hunts no doubt hoping those foul beasts will end their problem for them." Gilranean scoffed bitterly from too many worried nights worrying if her husband should ever return.  
  
"How do you know all this?" Rosaline asked puzzled at this new revelation.  
  
"You forget I am fluent in elvish. I hear the guards talk. They take bets on if he'll return or not. And one of these days he won't." Gilranean had a distant look as though envisioning such a future. "They were not meant to be caged. Either of them...Arathorn or Aragorn. Their spirits can not live behind bars or upon chains. Their hearts will simply not allow it."  
  
Rosaline laid a comforting arm around Gilranean's shoulders offering compassion and understanding with her simple touch. "Nor will yours." She whispered tenderly.  
  
"Nor will mine..." Gilranean echoed brokenly.  
  
"Then you must go." Rosaline replied trying to sound brave, but her voice cracked betraying her heart.  
  
"Thank you for understanding. You have ever been my dearest friend." Gilranean smiled sincerely.  
  
"Just don't forget about us lowly slaves when you become the great queen of Gondor." Rosaline teased lightly.  
  
"Never." Gilranean replied with all seriousness refusing to leave it as the jest for which is was intended. "I could never forget about you. And I promise you someday this reign of tyranny will be over." Gilranean embraced her friend one last time and whispered something in her ear. "I promise you with my last breath will I work towards a free world for us all."  
  
"I know." Rosaline smiled sadly hope and tears glowing in her eyes. "So long as hope lies in the hearts of the royal family I shall have faith." The woman vowed.  
  
"We are not quite the royal family yet." Gilranean smiled. "Not until we reach Gondor."  
  
"Ah but you are." Rosaline smiled. "You are our royal family. The royal family of the slaves. I know it's not a title so prestigious as Queen of Gondor, but I'm afraid it is the only title we have to give my lady. But know anyone of us would be willing to give our lives for you and your family. You have given us all so much and lifted out spirits when we have given into despair. I don't know what we shall do without you."  
  
Gilranean could not keep the tears from slipping down her faces any longer and cared not for once to wipe them away. "I have never been more honored by a title in my life and am proud to be considered in such high regard. I never dare imagine I would find such loyalty or such friendship and I know I shall never find such devotion again for our friendships has been forged by the fruits of our labors and the hardships on our hearts. And that is why I know you will all continue on without us. You will band together as you always have and you will look to one another now, you now among others. You and your husband Kalen. You will remind them of hope and guide them all the best you can. I have faith in you as I always have.  
  
"I do not think I have the strength Gilranean. I've never been as brave as you nor as wise. I fear I am not up to the task you ask of me."  
  
"You have more strength than you know my friend. Rosaline you must merely find it in here where it has always been waiting to be released." Gilranean replied touching Rosaline's heart.  
  
Rosaline merely bowed her head silently accepting the silent request and her queen's command to lead a broken people.  
  
Gilranean turned from her friend for the moment scanning the room for Aragorn. It was rare for the boy to be so quiet and often indicated the child had gotten himself into some trouble or another.  
  
Smiling in relief as she found the child contently munching his cookie in the corner Gilranean allowed herself a moment of peace just watching the innocence of a child in all its simple contentment. Oh how she wished she could feel that way again. When the worries of the world were of no importance and life was precious in the small joys one witnessed. Each day was a new and glorious adventure filled with unspoken promise of discovery. And oh how quickly it faded in this place. Aragorn was still so young yet, scarcely five, and yet even he bore his own fears and worries, his eyes slightly clouded from unspeakable sadness. And she knew those clouds would never completely fade from his eyes. They would always linger as a reminder of his dark past till the ends of his days.  
  
Rosaline followed her friend's gaze after a moment and also felt a sense of peace wash over her at the boy's absolute contentment with his simple treasure holding it as though it were more precious than gold. She stifled a laugh as she took in the boy's dirty face covered in cookie crumbs. It seemed dirt was forever attracted to the boy like a bee to honey.  
  
"And what is so funny?" Gilranean asked as she turned a curious look upon her friend's amusement. "Well my lady, It seems the prince of the slaves has already gotten himself messy again after all your careful ministrations this morning." Rosaline snickered.  
  
"Alas." Gilranean sighed in mock distress. "I fear it is a losing battle. The dirt is just too powerful. My faithful rag cannot overcome its mighty clinging abilities. A clean son shall be forever deprived of me."  
  
The two friends stood side by side laughing like the friends they were savoring this last moment together.  
  
And then with the first rays of sunlight leaking into the room Gilranean knew she could wait no longer. They must leave now or all would be for not.  
  
Gilranean turned quickly stubbornly refusing the passage of any more tears. The last image her friend saw of her would not be that of a weeping maiden, but a strong and powerful queen. A queen of Gondor and a queen of the slaves.  
  
"Come Aragorn it is time for us to go. Come kiss your nana farewell sweet child." Gilranean called softly.  
  
The young boy immediately looked up at his mother's call and obediently followed her command.  
  
"Aren't you coming to see the surprise too nana?" Aragorn asked in confusion.  
  
"I'm afraid not my little one." Rosaline smiled sadly. "Now come give your nana a quick hug before you're late and miss out." Rosaline tried to tease lightly.  
  
Aragorn ran into her open arms allowing himself to be scooped up into a tight embrace which he enthusiastically returned.  
  
"Don't cry nana." Aragorn whispered in her ear. "Even though you can't go with us I'll make sure to sneak some of the surprise back for you to have." The boy smiled a mischief glint in his eyes as though he was planning to do something very sneaky.  
  
The boy's heartfelt gesture only caused Rosaline greater distress as her tears burst forth like water from a dam and she forced herself to release the boy lest she soak him in her sadness.  
  
"I would like that very much young one. I shall look foreword to your return." Rosaline smiled weakly not wishing to cause the boy unnecessary grief.  
  
Gilranean hefted her small satchel over her shoulder and held out her hand for Aragorn's small one to accompany, to which the boy eagerly complied.  
  
"Now Aragorn my love you must be very quiet. We do not wish to attract any undue attention so stay close and be well behaved my son."  
  
"Yes mama." Aragorn readily agreed.  
  
As Gilranean and Aragorn made to leave Gilranean instinctively turned back one last time grabbing tightly for Rosaline's wrist.  
  
"Promise me one thing my friend." Gilranean pleaded.  
  
"Anything my lady." Rosaline answered a bit taken aback by the naked self- conscious woman before her, a side of Gilranean she had never seen before and prayed never to see again. For Gilranean's eyes were filled with a silent desperation clawing away at the hopeful light of the woman's eyes.  
  
"If...if anything should happen to...to Arathorn and me.... Please...if you can...look after Aragorn. He will need someone to love him and keep him safe if the worst should happen."  
  
"You need not even ask." Rosaline silently replied more than willing to honor such a request though it left her feeling sick and queasy for what such a fulfilled entreaty would mean and so she silently prayed to the Valar that she would never be called to fulfil such a request.  
  
And with that Gilranean and Aragorn were gone and the room felt suddenly very dark and cold. Rosaline wrapped her arms tightly around herself ignoring the bittersweet tears that fell unchallenged down her face waiting for she knew not how long staring out the doorway  
  
Waiting...hoping...praying  
  
For their return and knowing it would never be so.  
  
It just ain't the same, always unchanged  
  
New days are strange, is the world insane?  
  
If love and peace is so strong  
  
Why are there pieces of love that don't belong  
  
Nations droppin' bombs  
  
Chemical gasses fillin' lungs of little ones  
  
With the ongoin' sufferin' as the youth die young  
(Black Eyed Peas: Where is the Love?)  
  
Gilranean walked confidently down the palace corridor trying to simulate the countenance of one who knew exactly where they were going and by all appearances suppose to be out walking the halls this early in the morning.  
  
Aragorn on the other hand had taken his mother's words to heart uttering not a single word as he followed obediently behind.  
  
Much to Gilranean's amusement, Aragorn had decided to entertain himself while they walked along by pretending to be a ranger.  
  
The young boy strode down the corridor in a somewhat crouched position giving the impression he was crawling through some unseen undergrowth. As he traveled along he cast suspicious glances around the "forest" keeping a wary eye out for potential threats. He had his invisible sword readily in hand should any orcs or other evil creatures appear out of the forests dense foliage or from Gilranean's perspective from out of one of the many bedchambers that lined the hallway.  
  
Whenever the pair came upon an elf guard Aragorn immediately jumped behind his mother, his invisible sword posed in a defensive position should the "orc" choose to attack.  
  
Based on the child's concurrent behavior Gilranean reached the conclusion that in Aragorn's game she had inherited the role as the moving tree or something of the sort from which the "young ranger" could hide behind while he spied upon his enemies. Just what I've always wanted to be She thought dryly.  
  
Fortunately, of the few elves the mother and child passed, none questioned why the two were wandering the halls so early, falling easily into Gilranean's ruse, for which she was more than grateful.  
  
She already had an excuse prepared should anyone take a sudden interest in why she was up so early. Gilranean would claim that her son and her had been assigned kitchen duty to help prepare breakfast. After all she was headed towards the kitchen, but who knew how long that explanation would hold up to further scrutiny.  
  
She was not part of the regular kitchen staff and if she had truly been assigned kitchen duty for the day than why had she not gotten up with the rest of the kitchen slaves? To which of course she had no suitable answer.  
  
But she wouldn't let herself worry about such things now. She'd deal with that problem when and if it should arise.  
  
She was counting on the elves own arrogance to be used against them to carry out this plan. They were so confidant no slave could possible pose a true threat that they allowed themselves to be somewhat lax in their supervision of the slaves.  
  
After all they were just humans...  
  
Humans made far too much noise in the elves opinion and thus were easy to track and easier still to observe. Before they would get five inches out the palace doors a whole contingent of guards would be down upon them and so slaves were paid little mind as they walked unsupervised down the corridors.  
  
And in most instances the elves were right. Humans did not have nearly the same amount of stealth as that of their captors. And with their keen senses an elf could spot trouble a mile a way or several miles for that matter. And so escape was an unheard of feat. No slave dared try for even though the consequences of capture was not punishment by death they were certainly severe enough to discourage such actions.  
  
But Gilranean and Arathorn intended to do the impossible.  
  
Escape!  
  
And right out in front of the elves noses too. They would never suspect, wouldn't dare. And it would be that one mistake that would be their undoing and Gilranean's success.  
  
Finally breathing out in a sigh of relief as the kitchen came into sight Gilranean allowed her fear to slowly dissipate. The chances of discovery were steadily decreasing the closer she got to the kitchen doors. Nearly there. She could even smell the fresh baked bread wafting on the air now. And now the heat from the kitchen prickled at her skin. So close. Almost...  
  
"There... You slave, stop right there."  
  
Gilranean's heart skyrocket at the commanding voice. Quickly composing her face and steadying her heart rate as best she could Gilranean quickly reached for her son, still lost in his fantasy world, and pulled him behind her as she turned around to address the voice.  
  
"Yes my lord." She curtsied bending her head submissively avoiding the elves searching gaze.  
  
"What are you doing out in this hallways so early. You're not part of the kitchen staff." The elf guard demanded as he continued to scrutinize her.  
  
He had to figure that out first thing Gilranean thought in exasperation. Just my luck  
  
Returning the elves gaze evenly Gilranean set herself to explain. They were so close. She couldn't back down now, not after how far they had come.  
  
"No my lord. I am not part of the kitchen staff. I was assigned temporary kitchen duty this morning. It seems one of the slaves has taken sick."  
  
"By whom." The elf asked bluntly still suspicious.  
  
"Master Rovan, my lord." Gilranean replied smoothly.  
  
The elf merely grunted in response casting a distrustful eye to the boy who was peaking from behind his mother before the elf guard headed back down the hallway.  
  
Gilranean gasped in relief. That was close...too close for her liking. Casting a quick glance down the hallway and satisfied that no one else would stop them Gilranean entered the kitchen pushing Aragorn in ahead of her.  
  
"My lady, you made it." A woman ran up and grasped her arm in greeting.  
  
"Thanks to you Miricil. If you hadn't left the door to the slave chambers unlocked I don't know how we would have gotten out. Do not worry. I locked it back before we left. None shall know of your aid." Gilranean promised squeezing Miricil's hand in return greeting.  
  
"Nay, do not thank me. You and Arathorn have helped my family and I on more than one occasion. We are forever in your debt." Miricil replied humbly, gratitude evident in her eyes.  
  
"Aye If it wasn't for Arathorn our eldest Terenthil would have been killed by one of those Valar forsaken orcs by now when he's forced out on one of those patrols of theirs." A robust man chimed in, who in all appearances seemed to be Miricil's husband. For the man placed his arm affectionately over the young woman's shoulders before turning to face Gilranean again.  
  
"Regardless, thank you both for all you have done. You have taken great risk upon yourselves to aid us."  
  
"A risk we gladly take my lady." Miricil spoke bravely. "There are some things more important than our own lives." Talather, Miricil's husband, said proudly glancing meaningfully at Gilranean and her son, hiding behind his mother still thoroughly immersed in his game. "You are a precious little one. How old is he now?" Talather asked smiling friendly to the young boy who readily returned the smile with one of his own.  
  
Aragorn his game now forgotten stepped in front of his mother, chest held out high as he pointed proudly to himself.  
  
"I'm five years old now. Nearly a man mama says. Soon I'm going to be a ranger just like my daddy." Aragorn smiled proudly making it readily apparent how he felt about the rangers and his father unparticular.  
  
"Indeed you will my lad." Talather nodded in approval. "You have all the making of a fine ranger indeed."  
  
Aragorn blushed at the praise shuffling his feet nervously.  
  
"And you're the best cook in the whole wide world." Aragorn grinned pleased at finding such a wonderful compliment.  
  
Talather heaved his chest out proudly and beamed at the unexpected compliment, sending Miricil into a tittering fit of laughter telling her husband he was positively glowing.  
  
Talather smiled ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck subconsciously in his embarrassment, which only seemed to make Miricil laugh louder.  
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt." Gilranean smiled at the couple's playful banter. It reminded her so much of Arathorn and her. Oh how she missed him. "But how exactly do you plan to get Aragorn and me into the cart unnoticed?" Gilranean asked the question that had been gnawing at her for sometime.  
  
"Ah now that's the trick isn't it." Talather winked mysteriously. "Let's just say we have a little "distraction" planned."  
  
"Oh Talather your impossible." Miricil sighed rolling her eyes in recognition. "Thinks himself a wizard he does with his half answers. Our eldest Lathonon left the storeroom open this morning. I suspect it shall attract quite a few wolves and the such. I think that'll keep the guards busy for a bit...long enough I suspect to get you both safely stowed away. And than the rest is up to you I'm afraid."  
  
"You're doing more than enough." Gilranean was quick to argue. "Without you we never would have gotten this far and I shall never forget you, either of you. Thank you my friends...We are forever in your debt."  
  
Miricil and Talather smiled weakly back at the gracious words at a loss of how to respond.  
  
But to the relief of both of them, they didn't have to.  
  
"Guards...Guards. Hurry come quickly. Wolves have broken into the food stores." A young woman's voice pitched out in a hysterical panic, from outside the kitchen doors.  
  
Aragorn jumped at the shrill noise and quickly hid himself behind his mother.  
  
Neither Talather nor Miricil seemed too concerned about the panicked cry for help and both actually smiled at the pronouncement.  
  
"That's our daughter Isaline." Miricil explained. "That was the signal we've been waiting for. Come we must go quickly."  
  
Talather promptly scooped up young Aragorn and lead the way out a backdoor in the kitchen normally guarded, but now thankfully empty for the elf guards were a bit preoccupied at the moment.  
  
Gilranean quickly followed behind with Miricil bringing up the rear as the party of four set a brisk pace towards a large wagon lying right outside the kitchen doors.  
  
"We already loaded the wagon up early this morning and Lathonon went ahead and had the horses bridled up beforehand so the elves could leave us soon as they got up. Mostly just some salted meats, jams, fruits, and the lot. A little silk and cloth too I suspect. There shouldn't be more than two maybe three elves at the most. Going to take all these goods to Dale, for trading, they got a small fishing community down that way. The elves don't normally look too much at the goods before they set off. Just a quick glance to make sure it's all there. If you stay well hidden I don't think you'll have any problems." Talather rapidly explained.  
  
Gilranean squeezed Talather's shoulder and grasped Miricil's hand in her other. She offered the two a heartfelt smile of thanks and farewell.  
  
Talather merely give her a quick nod, not one for displays of affection before loaded Aragorn onto the cart and helped hoist Gilranean in after.  
  
Gilranean took her young son back into the dark reaches of the wagon covering her child with a few blankets after reminding him to be very still and very quiet a bit longer.  
  
After ensuring her son was well concealed Gilranean also covered herself in blankets and lay as still as possible sending the Valar a silent prayer to ensure their escape.  
  
Talather and Miricil silently watched holding hands as the mother and son camouflaged themselves for the journey outside of the palace gates.  
  
After ensuring the two were well hidden the couple hurriedly left less their deception be discovered each offering their own prayers to the Valar that mother and son would have a safe journey...  
  
Aragorn started feeling fidgety as boredom began to invade his carefree existence. It was hot and stuffy under the blankets and he longed to yank off the uncomfortable cloths and go run in the warm sun. Or even go helping in the kitchens. It was hot and stuffy in there too, but at least Miricil snuck him treats every once in a while.  
  
This surprise was turning out to be nearly as exciting as he had imagined. But Aragorn dared not leave the confines of his hiding place. His daddy told him to always do what mama told him and he wanted his father to be proud of him. So the young boy much to his displeasure remained hidden trying to find ways to occupy his mind with little success.  
  
The impatience of youth Gilranean thought amusedly as she felt little Aragorn squirming about beside her.  
  
"Shh...my love you must be still." Gilranean whispered quietly to her son.  
  
"I'm sorry mama." Aragorn whispered back immediately stilling like the well- behaved boy he was.  
  
Gilranean felt the boy still and allowed herself a sad wry face. She knew how bored the youthful ball of energy must be and yet he was never one to whine or complain. Perhaps it came from living a life for want, but the mother knew it ran much more deeply than that.  
  
She had a truly sweet child.  
  
He had a complete sense of selflessness about him that caused the boy to puts the needs of others before his own. And at such a young age. He was so like his father in that respect. So willing to sacrifice till it hurt and even beyond.  
  
And she loved him for it...both of them.  
  
"My sweet child why do you not rest. I know you must surely still be tired. Do not worry I will wake you when it is time. Do not fear for I shall be near."  
  
"Yes mama." Aragorn whispered after a brief pause adding. "I love you."  
  
"I love you too. Now rest your eyes young one and let peaceful dreams find you."  
  
Aragorn found after his mother's suggestion that he did feel a bit sleepy. His eyelids started to feel heavy and the warmth now started to feel most welcoming. The young boy snuggled deeply into the blankets rubbing his cheeks against the soft fabric as his eyes closed and he entered a sweet release...  
  
Gilranean smiled as she heard her sons gently breathing as he fell into a deep sleep. He always could sleep wherever he fell, just like his father in that respect too. She mused.  
  
A few moments later she made out the sounds of elvish, like music on the air. Such a beautiful language.  
  
Gilranean listened closely to what the two elves said to see if her and Aragorn's disappearance had been discovered or if something else might be amiss.  
  
Gilranean was assuaged of her fears when the two elves walked away. The two stowaways still unnoticed.  
  
The two elves had not spoken of anything to cause concern merely joking about a few wolves getting into the food stores and making quite a mess of the place.  
  
Gilranean hoped Miricil and her family would not get in trouble for the incident, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it either way. Only hope for the best. Fortunately hoping she was good at...living with the two most trouble attracting people on middle earth made one good at such things.  
  
As the wagon finally set off creating a dull hum as the wheels rubbed against the ground and a gentle rocking at the cart swayed too and fro on its axis Gilranean permitted herself a moments reprieve allowing the tension to dissipate from her body. However she still remained alert stubbornly refusing to fall into the pleasant escape of sleep that tempted her so insistently.  
  
But oh how tired she was, physically and emotionally. Gilranean had not seen her husband for over a month, for he was out on patrol, for another extended period. And she always got so little sleep when he was away always thinking about him and if he stilled lived, expecting to awake and find his dead body drug back to the palace for an unmourned burial with a nameless tombstone.  
  
She had not slept last night either, so worried about the escape that rest simply would not come. She'd lain on her pallet replaying the escape plan over and over in her head to insure everything was set. They could afford no mistakes. She was certain another chance might never come and at least not for many months.  
  
And Arathorn would be dead by then...  
  
The elves were already suspicious of her husband and would take an escape attempt as the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. He would just disappear one night never to be seen again. She couldn't let that happen for she would follow soon after leaving her child an orphan in a cruel and lonely world. This plan had to succeed for all their sakes or hope would truly be lost.  
  
As Gilranean felt her eyes slowly drooping from too many sleepless nights the cart jerked to a stop thankful bringing her back to full alertness.  
  
She suspected why they were stopped, but was hesitant to peak out the back of the wagon and confirm her suspicions for fear she would be easily spotted by the keen elven eyes. No it was too dangerous to be out in the moment for any period of time till they had passed out of the palace gates. So Gilranean contended herself with staying right where she was perking her ears up to try and hear what might be going on outside.  
  
Her mortal ears could only make out muffled elvish too undistinguishable to understand and left her tensed and anxious with uncertainty.  
  
After a few unbearable moments of waiting a loud creaking noise startled the air, slightly shaking the cart.  
  
As the wagon set off once more Gilranean waited in a few impatient moments of anticipation before affording herself a quick peek from beneath the covers. To her satisfaction and relief she was pleased to find they were nearly passed outside the gates.  
  
She watched as the gates slowly and meticulously closed behind the retreating wagon, silenced with a tight bang as they were locked back in place. It gave the whole affair such a sense of finality. Gilranean suspected she would never see the gates of Mirkwood again...  
  
Gilranean continued to look upon the gates until they disappeared into the distance and yet she felt no loss no remorse except for the people she left behind.  
  
It had been her home for all of her life and she could find no tears to shed at its loss and no homesickness to feel at their departure, only reminding her how homeless she had truly been, for her entire existence. She had never known a place of comfort and happiness and felt the loss sorely. She could only hope that Gondor would someday fill this empty place.  
  
The wagon continued on for an hour or so longer never stopping its repetitive forward motion. Gilranean was contemplating how she and Aragorn would escape without the two elves noticing, but was loath to admit she could think of no formidable escape plan.  
  
She'd though to sneak out when the elves rested the horses for a bit, but realized that elves and elven horses were both high endurance creatures and may very well not rest till reaching Dale or at the very least leaving the Mirkwood forests. That would leave Gilranean and her son days or even weeks off course. They were meant to meet with Arathorn today and should they fail to show he would no doubt return to the palace in search of them.  
  
The noble woman considered perhaps jumping from the moving buggy, but was loath to do so unless it became their last option. She feared such a jump would be too much for her young son and cause him unnecessary injury. She would not see him hurt if she could help it.  
  
All the noise of jumping from the cart would most likely attract the elves attention anyway. It was only by the blessings of the Valar mother and child had gone undetected thus far, and Gilranean had no intention of pushing her luck.  
  
As Gilranean had finally contended herself to waiting out the elves the cart jerked to a stop for a second time immediately putting the woman at ill ease. Why were they stopping? Had the elves heard her?  
  
She waited restlessly to see what would happen her breath caught painfully in her throat as the silence became deafening. Not even the creatures of the forest were calling out, no doubt the reason why the elves had chosen to stop so abruptly. At least that meant the elves had not stopped on her account. If that was actually reassuring or not was still debatable.  
  
Gilranean tensed hovering protectively over her sleeping child as she thought of all the reasons why the forest would go so still each thought worse than the last.  
  
Wolves...Wargs...Orcs...  
  
And then when she thought she could stand the wait no longer lest her heart burst from anxiety a small scuffling sound was heard followed by a barely perceptible thumping noise. Mere seconds later a second thump followed and Gilranean went rigid with fear. They were no longer alone. Something was out there...  
  
Footsteps...coming closer...walking towards the back of the cart.  
  
Gilranean felt the breath squeezed from her lungs as her heart started pounding haphazardly on her chest.  
  
She had to protect her child. No matter what happened he must be kept safe at all cost. The mother swiftly made sure the boy will still well hidden, but knew upon closer inspection the child would easily be uncovered. She would simply have to keep them, whoever they were, from getting too close than, wouldn't she?  
  
Gilranean looked around the back of the cart frantically looking for a weapon. Anything to hold this unknown enemy at bay. She felt despair rip at her heart when she could find something that would make a formidable weapon...blankets... apples... meat...  
  
The mother squared her shoulders. If need be she would fight them with her bare hands before she let them near her child.  
  
A figure stepped in front of the wagon opening blocking out the shallow morning rays, throwing a shadow over the cart's contents.  
  
"An elf!" Gilranean exclaimed in part relief, part dread. At least they had survived whatever creatures had sought to waylay the wagon, but it did not disaffirm her resolve. She still felt like a trapped animal. She couldn't be captured. Escape had cost too much already and she would die before she let herself or her offspring be taken again.  
  
Gilranean glared back at the creature blocking out her sunlight refusing to flinch away from its intense gaze. She waited for it to make the first move prepared to fight and die for freedom.  
  
"Gilranean...is that you." A voice rasped out on the air.  
  
The woman blinked her eyes rapidly a few times as she tried to process the voice. It sounded so familiar... "Arathorn." She cried out as realization dawned. "Is it you?"  
  
The shadow creature nodded its head and before it could utter another word a blurry motion pounced upon him nearly knocking the weather worn man off his feet."  
  
"Arathorn I've missed you so much." Gilranean replied falling into the strong arms of her husband kissing him over and over again as she remembered the warm contour of his lips locked upon her own.  
  
"I...Can...Tell." Arathorn choked out between air stealing kisses. "You're as beautiful as the last time I saw you." Arathorn smiled as he took in his wife's sweaty dirt streaked face.  
  
Gilranean smacked him playfully on the ear before joining his laughter. "You try sitting under a pile of blankets in a cart for two hours in this kind of heat." She defended a mock pout falling upon her face making her look much younger than she had in a long time. "And look at you. Did you roll around in the mud before you decided to stop by? How did you even know we were on this cart anyway?"  
  
Arathorn laughed heartily at his wife's jab. Still so fiery. That's why he'd fallen in love with her so many years ago. She had such spirit...such passion. "I've been watching the palace gates all morning. When I saw the cart leave I followed...guess I had a moment of intuition." Arathorn shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"You did, did you?" Gilranean eyed him suspiciously.  
  
"Alright, Alright. You've caught me." Arathorn laughed again holding his hands up placatingly. "I have a few spies in the palace. They slipped me the information last night. I figured you might have a bit of trouble getting past those two elves so I decided to offer my humble assistance my lady." Arathorn smiled as he gave a grand flourish of a bow.  
  
A concerned look passed over Gilranean's face as she looked to the front of the cart where two bound and gagged elves lay in a heap upon the dirt road. "Are...are they dead? What did you do to them?"  
  
"Do not worry. They have not been harmed. Elves have pressure points on their necks. Didn't even know what hit them. They're merely unconscious. In a few hours they'll wake up with a head ache...nothing more." Arathorn promised reassuringly.  
  
Gilranean sighed in relief. Just because the elves had enslaved her people did not mean she wished their lives in vengeance. She would not see the suffering of others if she could prevent it. Gilranean knew that there were good elves and bad elves just as there were good men and bad men. She knew that you could not judge a living being by their race, but rather by the content of their character and Gilranean had tried to instill this value in her young son, so he would grow to respect all creatures. The prejudices of this world had to end before middle earth could ever heal.  
  
Gilranean hugged Arathorn tightly sagging a bit in his arms as weariness overcame her. Arathorn easily feeling the change in his wife leant her a bit more support eyeing her with worried eyes.  
  
"Are you well Gilranean. Have you been injured?"  
  
"Aye I am well my love. Just a bit tired. I have not slept well of late."  
  
Arathorn turned away from her piercing gaze his head hung in shame as though he had read something incriminating in her eyes. "I am sorry." He whispered hoarsely. "I did not wish to cause you pain. Forgive me."  
  
Gilranean gently lifted her husband's chin forcing him to meet her eyes. His own silver orbs glistened with unshed tears as he located her own.  
  
"There is nothing to forgive." She breathed lovingly willing him to believe her. "You could not control what has happened. But things will be better now. We are together and we are finally free. Our son will finally know what it means to be happy." Gilranean smiled.  
  
"Son? Where is Aragorn?" Arathorn asked glancing frantically about for his child. "I have not seen him. Is he well?"  
  
"Aye. Sleeping like a babe." Gilranean grinned cheerfully. "Would you like to see him?"  
  
At a nod from Arathorn, Gilranean took his hand in her own and lead him to the further reaches of the wagon towards their precious bundle.  
  
The noble woman knelt by a bundle of blankets, Arathorn followed her example kneeling beside her. She gently pulled off the blankets revealing a small boy curled up precariously among a pile of cloths. Gilranean gazed fondly at her sleeping son breathing slow and deeply in serene rest. He looked so peaceful...so young...so innocent lost in his own dreams.  
  
Arathorn watched breathlessly as his beloved son was revealed. The man reached out a suddenly shaky hand to brush some of his child's stray curls from his closed eyes.  
  
"He's grown so much since last I laid eyes upon him." Arathorn uttered entranced by his precious offspring.  
  
"Aye, and he looks more and more like you everyday." Gilranean smiled wrapping herself in Arathorn's arms.  
  
Arathorn merely smiled and laid his head upon his wife's shoulder as he watched the amazing spark of life that was his son.  
  
The couple sat that way for sometime sharing in some much-needed companionship immersed in a mutual love for their child.  
  
It was because of him, this precious bundle of hope, that they had never given into despair. When slavery weighed heavily on their hearts young Aragorn would lighten their burden with his abundant love and his free spirit. He reminded them why they must go on. Why they not lose themselves. He showed them how to dream again...  
  
Aragorn slowly began to stir from his restful sleep. Perhaps because he sensed someone observing him while he slumbered. Or perchance the unfamiliar stillness when he had grown so accustomed to the rocking of the cart lured him back to reality. Either way he began to awaken much refreshed as though he could feel the burden of slavery no more upon his fragile shoulders replaced by an uplifting sense of freedom.  
  
The boy stretched his arms above his head before rubbing at bleary sleep laden eyes, seemingly more reluctant than the rest of his body to rejoin the land of the living.  
  
Blinking a few times the child looked up and grinned at his mother as though he had been expecting her to be there when he awoke.  
  
"Are we there yet mama?" Aragorn asked excitedly feeling his unquenchable energy rising full force as sleep slowly tapered off.  
  
"Almost my love...almost." Gilranean smiled as she kissed him on the forehead.  
  
The young boy giggled at his mother's attentions as he sat up, too energetic to stay still any longer. The child curiously began to scan the cart now that his mother seemed less insistent about staying still and nearly immediately locked eyes with his father.  
  
Arathorn eyed the child somewhat apprehensively. The boy had not seen him in over a month's time and hardly much before that. What if the child didn't recognize him? Or perhaps his son felt abandoned and would reject his fatherly affections now. Arathorn suddenly felt very...ackward. He, a seasoned warrior, a ranger, and a future king of men could not bear to face his son...bear to face the possibility of rejection from one who held such a large piece of his soul.  
  
"Daddy." Aragorn beamed happily a look of pleased surprise on his face at seeing his long gone hero and father.  
  
The boy scooted into Arathorn's lap immediately easing the father's fears as the child welcomed his once more back into his life without question. Arathorn held his son in a warm embrace silently thanking the Valar for giving his child such an understanding heart.  
  
"Did you catch all the bad orcs daddy, so you can come home now?" Aragorn asked expectantly as he turned wide admiring eyes upon his father, waiting with a patience and attentiveness uncommon for a child of his age.  
  
Arathorn tousled the boy's curly looks affectionately as he laughed warmly at the innocently asked question. "I'm afraid my son it's not nearly so easy as that, though I wish it were. There is far too many orcs in the world to defeat them all in the span of a month. No I fear it will take us many more years before such will be the case."  
  
"Oh..." Aragorn sighed dispiritedly. His face visibly fell at the pronouncement, his shoulders slumped in disappointment, and his eyes were downcast as he tried to bravely fight off tears. "Will you be leaving soon daddy. I have missed you so..." The young boy spoke forlornly refusing to cry and show weakness before his father.  
  
"Nay young one." Arathorn replied triumphantly, pleased to once be able to bring good news to his son instead of continuous heartbreak as he was forced to leave his child time after time. He would never again have to see the tragically concealed sadness in his boy's eyes each time he would depart, called away to patrol some spot of forest or another. Forever torn away from his family perhaps each time to look upon them for the last.  
  
But now they were free...  
  
Arathorn hefted his son securely into the crook of his arm and grabbed Gilranean's wrist delicately in his hand leading them both out into the sunlight.  
  
After standing a moment locked together as a family once more staring into the warm touch of the sun Arathorn turned once more to look upon his only offspring, his heir apparent should the time come.  
  
Arathorn smiled contently as he watched young Aragorn staring up into the sky. His eyes were closed tightly against the bright rays of the sun, but his face drank hungrily at the powerful orb of light.  
  
He feels it... Arathorn smiled broadly a knowing look in his eyes.  
  
The boy had felt his first true taste of freedom. The feel of the sun on your face when you realize no one owns you, but yourself. Now that the child had tasted a glimpse of liberty's mighty power he would never again be content with a life of complacency... as Arathorn himself could never be.  
  
Having lived many years of his life as a ranger, Arathorn had resided under the stars traveling with the blowing winds. He could never find peace after his capture and subsequent enslavement. Freedom pulled too strongly at his wild spirit and no elf, man, or dwarf could tame it.  
  
And it would be the same way for his son now. Never a slave in spirit, but always a slave to his own hope...hope always that freedom could be had even in the days of his darkest despair.  
  
Arathorn knew that such bondage would be a comfort and a curse, to his young son, in years to come. In Aragorn's darkest hour such unwavering hope would give his son power unimaginable in it's fury, but the darkness would ever single the boy out intent upon claming such a prize and smiting its light.  
  
Arathorn could fathom not what the future held for his young son, but he "felt," by a gift of insight bestowed upon him by his forefathers and the Valar, that Aragorn would suffer much hardship before his life was through. The father also realized his son would be a powerful leader of men someday, and yet it offered him little consolation.  
  
But now was not the time to think of such things.  
  
They were all together again and that was what mattered most, not what the future held...at least not yet.  
  
Arathorn looked down at his son again, surprised and pleased to see Aragorn with his eyes open looking at his father with ill concealed curiosity.  
  
I wander how long he has been observing me thus. Probably thinks his father has gone mad. Arathorn thought in amusement.  
  
"Now to answer your question about when I'll be leaving again." Arathorn addressed his son deciding it was time to explain.  
  
"I will be leaving today, for Gondor, the white city, and I have no intention of returning to Mirkwood, at least not for many years." Arathorn replied enjoying his slight deception as he immersed himself in drawing out the wonderful news as long as possible. It was so rare he ever had anything good to share with his son that he intended to savor this moment as long as possible.  
  
"Years..." Aragorn whispered in distress as his face paled at the thought. His father meant to leave him. Aragorn felt tears burning his eyes and wanted nothing more than to weep and beg his father not to go.  
  
"And you are coming with me." Arathorn replied a bit more gently as he saw his son near tears. He had not conceived to upset the child and now felt guilty that he had done just that. "I would never leave you...I will never leave you always remember that my son." The boy's father smiled hugging his son tightly.  
  
"Now come we must make with haste. We have dallied too long already and the elves will have surely noticed your disappearance by now as well as my own." Arathorn charged subject quickly noticing the position of the sun. They had wasted too much time...much needed time perhaps, but it left them dangerously behind in their escape plans. The elves were excellent trackers and could easily be upon them in a matter of hours if they did not leave this place quickly.  
  
Arathorn handed Aragorn over to his mother and headed towards the two horses responsible for pulling the wagon.  
  
"We can't take the cart with us. It will leave too much of a trail for the elves to follow. But we can at least take the horses to make better time." Arathorn accounted to Gilranean in way of explanation as he began unhooking the steeds.  
  
As Aragorn was working on unfastening the second horse they both began to visibly perk up and started to look anxiously into the woods before them.  
  
Arathorn attempted to sooth the two obviously distraught horses by petting them gently on the nose, but the creatures only became more agitated and started stamping their hooves repeatedly in irritation.  
  
Aragorn chanced a glance at the two bound and gagged elves he had thoughtfully laid out on the side of the road. The two elves were quickly returning to consciousness looking in the same direction as the horses, eyeing the forest with wide-eyed concern cocking their heads to the side as though listening to something.  
  
The two elven warriors were oblivious to Arathorn's observations and began tugging at their bonds trying to undue the tight knots with little success, while they cast wary glances at the woods as though expecting something to appear at any moment.  
  
Arathorn put a cautious hand upon his sword hilt as he listened intently to the surrounding forest, trying to pick up the source of the elves and horses constraint. After a few moments Arathorn made out the inklings of movement still quite some distance away, but moving towards their location at a hasty pace...and thus an immediate threat.  
  
At that moment the horses reared in agitation kicking off Arathorn's hold allowing the two horses to bolt into the forest and back towards their home in Mirkwood.  
  
Arathorn sighed in resignation. There went the horses  
  
The trained ranger lowered himself to the ground and placed his ear to the forest floor. This was a hearing technique he had learned during his training and it was surprisingly effective at determining the number and distance of one's prey be it animal or enemy.  
  
Arathorn felt queasy at the pit of his stomach as he deciphered the vibrations of the ground and determined a party of fifty or more, less then thirty minutes away and gaining...  
  
Worse yet if Arathorn was interpreting the signs correctly he would wager this particular group also happened to be a pack or orcs. For the steps were too loud and powerful to be that of elf or man, or even dwarfs for that matter and no other creature typically traveled in such large parties.  
  
The ranger rose abruptly. He had to get his family to safety, but first he had to see to the two-elven prisoner's safety. He would not leave them to die. No one deserved to be left for orcs...an elf most of all.  
  
"Gilranean." Arathorn called out to his wife. "You must go quickly. Orcs are coming this way. Get Aragorn to safety in the woods. I will follow when I can."  
  
Gilranean silently nodded asking no questions and offering no protests. She trusted Arathorn implicitly and would do all he asked of her.  
  
The mother hefted her son further up into her arms and headed off without delay into the deeper reaches of the forest not looking back only foreword.  
  
Her family was quickly becoming stuck between a rock and a hard place. Between the elves that would enslave them and the orcs that would kill them...and Gilranean was starting to feel the pressure.  
  
So ask yourself is the lovin' really gone  
  
So I could ask myself really what is goin' wrong  
  
In this world that we livin' in people keep on givin'  
  
in Makin' wrong decisions, only visions of them dividends  
(Black Eyed Peas: Where is the Love?)  
  
Arathorn headed hurriedly over to the struggling elves and leaned down in front of the first elf blocking out the light of the sun and casting the  
elf in shadows.  
  
The elf stopped its movement and locked eyes with the human, waiting patiently to see what the man wanted.  
  
Arathorn seeing he had the elf's attention steadily crouched before the elf and pulled his dagger from its tucked place in his belt.  
  
The elf visibly stiffened as it caught site of the ranger's knife before returning his stony gaze back to the human, staring back defiantly.  
  
If the human intended to kill him than he would die honorably, with his head held high and his back straight. He would not show this filthy edain any weakness, just like a true Mirkwood warrior.  
  
"You need not be so high and mighty master elf. I have not come over here with the intention of slitting your throat." Arathorn replied good- naturedly as he began to cut through the elf's bindings.  
  
The elf continued to glare darkly at the human, but appeared to relax slightly at the man's reassurance, patiently holding his bound wrists out in front of him while the ranger sawed away at the ropes.  
  
With a final snap the ropes parted and the elf began gently rubbing his wrists to restart circulation back into his hands before he set to remove the gag for his mouth.  
  
"What's your name?" Arathorn asked, casually leaning against a tree some safe distance away.  
  
"What is it your business slave?" The elf sneered back. "When King Thranduil hears what you have done...attacking two of his soldiers you will be executed."  
  
"Than perhaps I should leave you both for the orcs to play with so the king never finds out." Arathorn shot back, fear for his family making him irritable. He had no intention of leaving the elves here if they wished it or not, but he wanted to give them something to think about.  
  
"I am not afraid of you human." The elf answered fiercely.  
  
"As I do not wish you to be." Arathorn replied peacefully wishing to end this foolish war of the wills. "I am merely a man trying to protect his family. You would have acted exactly the same as I if our roles had been reversed."  
  
The elf remained speechless as a thoughtful look came over his eyes. He pictured his beautiful wife, Gwelwen (air), his daughter Gwaloth (blossoms), and his son, Celeiralmir (brilliant flame). The boy was hardly 1200 summers old, scarcely more than a child in the eye of the elves.  
  
The elven warrior merely nodded silently accepting the truth of the man's statement without verbally supporting it. If it were his family he would do anything to protect them including knocking dwarf, man, or even elf unconscious to do it. But just because he agreed didn't mean he was going to condone the man's actions. After all he was an edain...and a slave.  
  
Arathorn acknowledged the elf's answer and walked back towards the elven warrior, handing the elf his dagger hilt first.  
  
"I trust you won't use this against me master elf. After all we do have more pressing matters at the moment. We can sit here and argue all day, but those orcs will be upon us in less then fifteen minutes if my calculations are correct and I've no particular desire to wait here for them to find us. As I would think you would feel the same considering the orcs characteristic unfondness of your kind."  
  
Arathorn not waiting for a reply from the elf turned on his heels towards the wagon calling behind him, "Finish undoing your bonds and those of your friend and I shall retrieve your weapons."  
  
The elf quickly sawed through the rope tying his ankles together then set upon his companions tied hands and feet as well. With a speed born of the elves, the two warriors were free and standing before Arathorn appeared from behind the wagon bearing two bows, two quivers, and an assortment of daggers.  
  
The elves cast several glances into the forest as their keen senses warned them some evil approached. The trees screamed from them to run making the elves feel anxious and dare Arathorn say...fidgety? Or at least as fidgety as an elf could possibly get for the two elves were rolling back and forth on the heels of their shoes as they waited impatiently for their weapons returned.  
  
It was said that a Mirkwood elf felt naked without their bows, which at the moment sounded completely true in the ranger's opinion, based on the elves uncomfortable stance.  
  
As Arathorn handed the elves both back their weapons he could almost swear they were actually "hugging" their bows for a second before the strung them over their shoulders. He had a feeling the elves would both deny it if he brought it up so he wisely held his tongue on the issue.  
  
As the ranger finished handing the first elf he had previously spoken with back his last dagger the elf warrior with lightning speed grabbed the man's wrist tightly.  
  
Arathorn looked up calmly into the elf's eyes waiting expectantly for the elf to say something.  
  
"My name is Celeirgil (brilliant star) and this is Laeranar (summer sun) the elf responded indicating the other elf who gave a slight nod as he watched the human distrustfully through slitted eyes.  
  
Arathorn nodded in return. "Aye, I am Arathorn son of Arador."  
  
"Now that the introductions are out of the way I would suggest you both make with haste back to the palace and inform the king of the orcs imminent attack." Arathorn continued.  
  
Celeirgil looked at Arathorn indignantly like the idea was sheer folly, while Laeranar puffed out his chest looking insulted at the very prospect.  
  
"We are Mirkwood warriors and we have no intention of running back to the palace like cowards." Laeranar replied testily.  
  
"And how do you...a human...plan on fending off a horde of orcs all on your own?" Celeirgil inquired in a humoring tone of voice like the simple suggestion was absolutely preposterous.  
  
"You know as well as I do master elf that there are over fifty orcs on their way here as we speak. Even two skilled elven warriors such as yourselves are no match for those odds." Arathorn insisted.  
  
"All the more reason we shall remain and fight. If we are no match for them then you will be hardly more than a breath of wind." Celeirgil pointed out.  
  
"Than that is all the more reason why you must leave." Arathorn fiercely protested. "If we should all fall than no one will be able to warn Mirkwood. They will be nearly defenseless and many needless lives will be lost."  
  
"Than we all shall go." Laeranar stubbornly insisted.  
  
"I cannot." The ranger negated turning pleading eyes on Celeirgil thinking him the elf that would perhaps sympathize more. "Please, I must find my family. They are vulnerable out there all alone. I cannot abandon them. If our roles were reversed..."  
  
"I would do the same thing." Celeirgil interrupted a light of understanding shining in his eyes. "Go then. Find your family."  
  
Arathorn nodded in gratitude before turning around and headed in the direction his family had traveled.  
  
"I hope we meet again Arathorn son of Arador. I should much like to learn more about you human." Celeirgil whispered under his breath as he followed Laeranar into the trees.  
  
Not respectin' each other, deny thy brother  
  
A war is goin' on but the reason's undercover  
  
The truth is kept secret, it's swept under the rug  
  
If you never know truth then you never know love  
  
Where's the love, y'all, come on (I don't know)  
  
Where's the truth, y'all, come on (I don't know)  
  
Where's the love, y'all  
(Black Eyed Peas: Where is the Love?)  
  
Gilranean looked around the forest uncertainly. All the trees looked the same to the untrained eye. She felt fear eating at her composure. Which way to go? Or perhaps it would be best to stay her and wait for Arathorn to catch up.  
  
But what if he didn't ever come? She shuddered at the thought refusing to acknowledge any possibility to the statement. The noble woman forced herself to refrain from trembling lest she frighten her young charge.  
  
Thankfully Aragorn had remained silent thus far, seeming to understand the seriousness of the situation.  
  
Gilranean can not insure her husband would return so the mother had to look to the safety of her child foremost. Aragorn must be protected at all costs, Gilranean concluded, he was the last hope for the world of men and perhaps all of middle earth if the prophecies were true. Thus whatever her decision she had to decide what would be the best way to accomplish this.  
  
Gilranean allowed herself a few moments of deliberation and reasoned it would not be safe to remain here on the off chance any orcs happened to arrive before Arathorn, which Gilranean resolutely refused to consider, for the consequences of such an outcome would most likely mean her husband was dead by a cruel orc blade.  
  
So she must move foreword...  
  
But which way?  
  
To the let were orcs....to the right lay the palace.  
  
Straight it is than...  
  
Gilranean set foreword confidently, for at least she had formed some plan of action. It may not have been much to go on...but it was enough to go on and that was all that mattered for now.  
  
"Mama, daddy will be fine won't he?" Aragorn whispered meekly unsure if it was all right to speak, but fearful for his father's safety.  
  
Gilranean looked down at her son and tried to offer him a reassuring smile though it ended rather weakly. "Yes my love, he will be well. There is nothing to fear. Your father is just fighting more of those nasty orcs he has told you about. He sent us into the woods so we wouldn't get in his way."  
  
Aragorn nodded thoughtfully clinging tighter to his mother as though he sensing some sense of foreboding...  
  
"Mama I don't want to go any further. It feels...scary." Aragorn murmured, trying to voice his concerns. Something felt eerie and dark about these woods and Aragorn had no wish to go foreword farther into the forests evil embrace. "Please mama don't make us go in there." Aragorn pleaded desperately.  
  
It tore at Gilranean's heart to see her son trembling in her arms and she was tempted to do as he bid. Just turn around and run as far from this place as she could. But where else was there to go? This was the only way to safety and as much as it worried her she had no choice. If this was the only way to see her son to safety then so be it...  
  
"I am sorry my love, but this is the way we must travel. I know it is dark and perhaps a bit scary, but I will be here to keep you safe. There is nothing to be afraid of." Gilranean soothed.  
  
"That's where you're wrong human." A gruff voice called out from the dark depths of the forest before them.  
  
Gilranean clutched her son protectively as her senses screamed that some malfeasance was afoot.  
  
Slowly huge bulky shapes began to emerge from the confines of the woods.  
  
Gilranean gasped, "orcs..." She unconsciously took a step back as the grotesque beasts were made visible by the faint rays of light that filtered through the trees.  
  
"What do we have here." The head orc, Gronok, asked with sinister glee as he partook of this unexpected prey.  
  
"It looks to me like two lost humans Gronok." An orc named Harsof answered from behind the frightened mother and child.  
  
Gilranean cast a quick glance over her shoulder her breath catching painfully in her throat.  
  
They were surrounded...  
  
About six orcs in front of them and perhaps five? behind slowly circling the defenseless pair.  
  
Aragorn stared openly at the creatures, his eyes wide with fright.  
  
He was not quite sure what these bizarre monsters were, but from some of the stories his father had told him on those rare visits he could easily guess and it disturbed him greatly.  
  
"Look the young one shakes. He won't last long, but those innocent screams will be like music to my ears." Gronok laughed maliciously a hungry twinkle in his eyes.  
  
"No...no." Gilranean shook her head frantically as she clung even more tightly to her son trying to cover him from sight with her own body. "You will not touch him."  
  
"We'll see about that pretty one." Gronok grinned darkly showing a set of rotting death. "Why are you out here in the middle of the woods all by yourselves little humans. Where are your elf masters? Perhaps they would like to come and play as well."  
  
A few of the orcs began to stare around the forest as though expecting an elf to show itself at any moment, and began to look agitated when this was not the case.  
  
"Where are you elves? Come out in play. Do you want your little pets to have all the fun?" Harsof shouted at the trees.  
  
The orcs waited expectantly looking around with impatience as they fingered their weapons in anticipation.  
  
"Ah they're not coming." Gronok huffed in frustration. "Them elves probably already ran back home. Don't care what happens to these two it would seem. Take em.'" Gronok replied waving his hand to indicate the quivering mother and child.  
  
The orcs slowly started to close in around Gilranean and Aragorn, sneering and laughing at the pair's obvious distress.  
  
Gilranean stared at the approaching demons with a look of horrified disgust on her face, her eyes dancing with a fiery protectiveness .  
  
Aragorn buried his face in his mother's blouse unwilling to look at the frightening monsters slowly coming closer. He felt his mother's fear, only increasing his own, for his mother was never afraid, not even of Firithgalad.  
  
When an orc got too close Gilranean kicked it away catching the unsuspected orc off guard as the force of her blow sent his back a few steps causing more irritation than damage.  
  
The offended orc glared darkly and started to advance again this time a bit more cautious.  
  
"She's a fiery one." Gronok laughed heartily as the woman kicked and smacked the orcs back with a ferocity that only a mother protecting her young could display. It was rather a gratifying sight for the orc captain as he watched the defenseless woman continue to resist though she knew of its futility.  
  
Gronok pushed through the group of encroaching orcs deciding it was time to end this. They were here for other reasons as it was and this was only an extra bonus. The master would not be pleased if he found out they had stopped to play with the two humans when they should have been locating the heir. The master didn't look well on disobedience and Gronok had the scars to prove it.  
  
The orc captain grabbed roughly for the child in the distraught mother's hands causing the child to cry out while the mother scathingly grabbed for the child refusing to release him into the orc's hold. Gronok slapped the woman harshly with the back of his hand drawing blood to her lip and causing her to loosen her hold on the boy.  
  
Gronok effectively took the squirming child away before the human mother could gain her bearings again, smiling... pleased with his success.  
  
"Mama...no mama." The boy shrieked out frantically reaching his hands out desperately for his mother.  
  
Gilranean whipped her head back around as the disorientation of the blow began to wear off and she suddenly realized her arms were empty.  
  
"Aragorn..." She screamed all composure lost as the woman frantically reached her own arms out towards her child.  
  
The surrounding orcs grabbed a hold of the mother roughly binding her wrists with coarse rope while she struggled and fumed angrily. "Let me go...give me back my son." She pleaded.  
  
Gronok turned back to the woman with a look of mild interest distorting his face. "What did you call him?" The orc demanded.  
  
Gilranean glared irately at the orc. "Who?"  
  
Gronok gave a brief nod to Harsof. The second in command slapped the women stingingly across the face.  
  
"Mama..." Aragorn screamed at his mother's rough treatment squirming to get out of Gronok's iron tight grasp.  
  
The orc captain slapped the boy painfully, identical to the hit his mother had previously incurred. The orc lowered his head till he was level with the boy's ear. "Stop your squirming brat or I'll give you something to cry about."  
  
Aragorn flinched away at the orcs harsh words and warm breath brushing against his ear.  
  
"Let me go. I want my mama." Aragorn insisted refusing to do what the scary monster wanted.  
  
"Behave." Gronok growled in frustration at the boy's stubborn attitude. "Or I'll let Harsof have some more fun with her." Gronok threatened indicating the boy's mother. Aragorn whimpered softly at the orc's cruel words, but stopped his struggling as he cast fearful eyes to his mother.  
  
The orc captain looked back at the distraught woman again. "Now tell me who the boy is. What did you call him? Don't lie to me or I'll slit his throat." Gronok replied menacingly as he pulled a long orc blade from his belt. The orc captain maliciously set the cold metal blade against the boy's exposed throat pressing ever so slight till a red line appeared causing the boy to whimper slightly at the pressure.  
  
Gilranean's eyes widened in panic. "His...his name is Estel. It is his only name." The mother answered afraid of what they would do to her son should they learn his lineage.  
  
Gronok growled in impatience as he shook the boy roughly sending the blade deeper into the boy's neck. "Don't lie to me. That is his elf name. What is the boy's true name? Tell me now or both of you will die. I will waste no more time on your impertinence." Gronok placed more pressure upon the sword prepared to simply slit the boy's throat and be done with this foolishness. They had no more time to waste only some bizarre pining of curiosity held his hand thus far.  
  
"No...stop." Gilranean pleaded in defeat. "Not Aragorn...don't hurt him. His name is Aragorn. Please he is just a child...leave him be."  
  
"Aragorn..." Gronok replied letting the word's roll off his tongue in disgust. Why did that name make him feel so uneasy and fill him with such a sense of loathing?  
  
The orc leader jerked the boy's head up staring into his cloudy gray eyes.... No not gray...silver!" Gronok gasped. Only the line of Numenor bore such eyes...more specifically the descendents of Isildur.  
  
As the orc captain stared back into those defiant silver orbs he couldn't help, but shudder at the power that lay beyond their depths. This one would cause problems if he were permitted to live. The master would be pleased with such a prize. Perhaps almost as much as if they caught the other one...the one they had been set here to find in the first place.  
  
These two would make excellent bait. The heirs of Isildur had always been weak hearted creatures their compassion their greatest downfall. The heir would come for these two...like they always did and then he would be theirs.  
  
Both of them would  
  
And while they were waiting the orcs could amuse themselves with the women. She was of no importance. The master had no need of her.  
  
"Who is the boy's father?" Gronok commanded the women wishing to confirm his suspicions. It would not do to be wrong. The master did not take failure well.  
  
Gilranean squirmed uncomfortably. She couldn't tell them. The orc already suspected too much. She could tell them no more...could not betray Arathorn or her son.  
  
Gilranean pressed her lips tightly shut glaring back at the orc captain defiantly refusing to utter another word. They would not kill her son...not while they suspected... And she no longer cared what they did to her. She would keep her peace and protect her family till her death.  
  
Gronok seemed to know she would tell him no more and removed the blade from Aragorn's throat in sad reluctance as though he would like nothing more than to make good on his threat and slit the boy's throat once and for all.  
  
"Bring them." Gronok growled shoving the boy into the hands of another orc standing nearby before he turned back into the dark recesses of the forests. "The human will tell us every thing soon enough and they have someone looking for them. Don't you?" Gronok asked knowingly as he looked over his shoulder at the woman being forcefully led foreword still kept apart from her son.  
  
Gilranean locked hate-filled eyes on the orc captain keeping her lips wedged tightly together.  
  
Gronok laughed at the woman's stubbornness, "Just as I thought." He grinned coldly as he headed deeper into the dark...  
  
The orcs camp was not far and so the small party even hindered by a woman and small child got there quickly and with little difficulty.  
  
Harsof oversaw a few orcs tying Gilranean securely to a tree and had the boy thrown down beside her.  
  
Gronok and several of the orcs approached surrounding the pair their knives and whips gleefully displayed as the orcs laughed and jeered at mother and child.  
  
The orc captain approached the bound woman lifting her head painfully up so she was forced to look into his cold empty eyes.  
  
"You will tell us everything we want to know before we are through." The orc assured her. "But I hope not too soon. I'd hate to have to kill you before we've even started." Gronok laughed vindictively.  
  
"No..." Aragorn protested angrily. He wouldn't let these demons hurt his mother even if they did frighten him.  
  
The boy pulled himself to his feet ramming into the orc captain with all his might knocking the orc back a pace or two forcing the beast to let go of his mother.  
  
Gronok whipped around glaring darkly at the boy. How he wished to smother that defiant spark in the human's eyes...To make it scream for mercy broken at his feet. But no the master would want it...undamaged.  
  
At least marginally so Gronok grinned as he slapped the boy across the face sending the child tumbling to the ground now sporting a blood nose.  
  
"Someone hold that boy. We don't want him interrupting our little...interrogation." Gronok yelled as he grabbed a whip from another orc.  
  
Aragorn fought and bit and kicked with a passion, but was easily subdued by Harsof.  
  
The orcs began to take turns whipping and beating his mother while Harsof forced the young boy to watch the orcs torment and mutilate his mother while Gronok's second and command whispered cruel words in his ears, promising young Aragorn much worse when they arrived in Mordor.  
  
His mother's screams burned in the young boy's ears and he felt nauseous as he watched his mother's blood dripping down once porcelain skin to pool on the ground.  
  
Aragorn cried openly screaming at the orcs to stop...begging Harsof to make them stop which only seemed to amuse the orc who grinned maliciously at the boy's pleading face.  
  
"Enough!" Gronok snarled in frustration, for Gilranean had said nothing, after what seemed to young Aragorn like an eternity. "We will get nothing more from this one. She is as good as dead now anyway. We need to set up surveillance for when the human comes looking for these two. We need to be ready."  
  
"What should we do with this one?" Harsof asked indicating the boy. Aragorn no longer fought against Harsof's grip now laying crumpled on the ground openly weeping as he whispered over and over under his breath, "mama..."  
  
"Just throw him over there with the other one. He's too scared to try anything now." Gronok ordered turning away to set up a perimeter guard.  
  
Harsof took Gronok's orders quite literally and indeed threw the boy up against the tree his mother was attached to before walking off without a second glance.  
  
Aragorn after a few moments wiped at his stray tears and looked fearfully up at his mother. She wasn't moving. Was she dead?  
  
The young boy rose cautiously to his feet and looked closely at his mother afraid to touch her, but unwilling to leave her either. Finally gaining his courage Aragorn lifted himself on tip-e-toe and laid his hand precariously upon his mother's shoulder, one of the few areas unrent by lacerations. "Mama..." Aragorn whispered hesitantly shaking her slightly. "Are you okay mama?"  
  
Upon not getting any response the boy began to shake her more fiercely as panic began to take hold. "Mama wake up. I'm scared mama. Please wake up."  
  
Gilranean felt herself floating in a black void. She was not yet dead, but near it now. She could feel her life ending and wished nothing more than to embrace the call of the Valar and accept her fate.  
  
But then she heard a voice call out from the darkness...It sounded so familiar...  
  
Aragorn!  
  
It was her precious Aragorn. He was begging her to wake up. But she knew she would never wake up again. She no longer had the strength. She silently began to weep as she thought of her poor frightened child. He would not understand and he was so alone.  
  
"Why do you cry Gilranean?" A curious voice asked from behind her. "It is a day of rejoicing, the day of your rebirth, so why do you weep? The Valar calls you home, why do you not heed their call?"  
  
Gilranean turned in surprise and looked upon the most ethereal being she had ever seen. It seemed a man stood before her, but he was swathed in a powerful glow that forced Gilranean to shield her eyes.  
  
The noble woman bowed in awe of the being before her.  
  
"Mandos..." She whispered with reverence.  
  
"Aye, my child. It is I. Tell me why do you weep when I call for you?"  
  
"My lord, It is my child...Aragorn. We were captured by orcs and now he will be all alone. I cannot leave him. I cannot leave him to suffer alone. Please Mandos I beg you....help him." Gilranean pleaded. "I will give you anything you ask. Please just spare my child."  
  
Mandos laid his hand compassionately upon Gilranean's shoulder and wiped her tears away with a gentle smile.  
  
"I ask nothing of you lady Gilranean. You have protected hope and raised him well. You have done more than the Valar could ask for and you shall be revered in my halls for ages to come."  
  
"Do not fear for the boy. I have foreseen he will survive this encounter...but his future is yet unclear." Mandos replied getting a distant look in his eyes as though looking into the future before he returned to Gilranean.  
  
"But the Valar will grant you the gift, to say goodbye. I know it is painful for a child to lose their parents and so we shall bless you a few moments to offer him comfort if you wish it. The experience will be painful so the decision is entirely yours. None will hold it against you if you wish to pass instead...Aragorn is stronger than he knows and he though he will bear scars of your passing he will find happiness again."  
  
"No Mandos. I must go to him...please. Any pain is not too great to ease my son's pain if perhaps only a little. I beg you let us part with love not pain." Gilranean requested.  
  
"Very well your request is granted. Awake and bid your son farewell lady Gilranean." Mandos touched her hand and suddenly Gilranean felt a surge of energy flow through her body as she fell away. Suddenly she was overcome with wracking waves of pain and could scarcely remember why she had returned until she heard her son crying and felt his warm tears upon her broken skin.  
  
"Aragorn..." Gilranean whispered scarcely able to form the words upon her dry cracked lips. "My son...do not cry for me."  
  
Aragorn looked up with a start. His eyes were red from overflowing tears still glinting in his pain filled eyes.  
  
"Mama..." He breathed hopefully. "Are you well. I thought...I thought you were gone." The young boy whispered wiping away the wetness on his face as he offered his mother a weak, but brave smile. All would be well so long as his mother still breathed.  
  
"My precious son."  
  
How I wish I could touch him Gilranean thought with longing, but the ropes made it impossible. She could only watch him from afar.  
  
"I must...must leave you now sweet child." Gilranean replied sadly pained that even with saying goodbye she would inevitably cause her child pain.  
  
"No...No mama." Aragorn shook his head in denial. "You can't go mama. I need you. Please don't leave me. I am frightened." Tears started to glisten once more in the trembling boy's eyes as his innocence slowly died away with the light in his mother's eyes.  
  
"Please... do not weep for me... my child. We will be together again... someday. And I...I shall wait for your. Gilranean whispered offering her son a sincere but sad smile. She did not have much time left and she had so much left to say.  
  
"No...you can't go yet mama. Please....daddy will be here soon. He will save us both." Aragorn begged.  
  
"Aragorn...you must lis...listen to me." Gilranean choked out, as the words became more and more difficult to say. A line of blood trickled down her cheek, but she paid it no mind for she could not wipe it away. "You must not...tell anyone your true name...it must be kept...kept a secret...as well as your ma...mark...until the time is right."  
  
"How will I know when the time is right mama? I do not understand." Aragorn asked in confusion.  
  
"Do not worry... you will know... w...when the time is right." Gilranean gasped out her breath getting ragged as she forced air into her lungs.  
  
"I...I love you Aragorn. Always re...remember your father and I will always be with you there...there in your hea...heart if you should ever need us you...you need only look inside and we will be there."  
  
Gilranean looked upon her son once last time and for a brief moment, instead of her young frighten son, before her stood a tall hansom man smiling back at her with merriment in his silver eyes, a crown of gold sparkled upon his head, and a bright glow encompassed his form making him look majestic and powerful. And Gilranean knew the Valar had bestowed one final gift upon her...allowing her to glimpse the man her child would one day become...and the great king he would one day be...  
  
And then the vision was gone and her son returned looking at her with clouded eyes looking troubled and so hopelessly lost.  
  
"I love you too mama." Aragorn cried unable to ease his breaking heart as he watched his mother fading away.  
  
"Thank you." Gilranean breathed out as she closed her eyes and left her mortal existence with a last shuddering breath.  
  
"No........" Aragorn screamed as he felt his mother go limp. "Come back mama...please come back." Aragorn wept pleading, demanding, begging, his mother to return to no avail.  
  
Finally emotionally spent Aragorn knelt at his mother's feet in a puddle of her blood and wept.  
  
I feel the weight of the world on my shoulder  
  
As I'm gettin' older, y'all, people gets colder  
  
Most of us only care about money makin'  
  
Selfishness got us followin' our own direction  
  
Wrong information always shown by the media  
  
Negative images is the main criteria  
  
Infecting the young minds faster than bacteria  
  
Kids want to act like what they see in the cinema  
(Black Eyed Peas: Where is the Love?)  
  
Arathorn followed Gilranean's trail with little trouble and estimated he would catch up with his wife and child within the hour if the Valar were willing. His greatest fear was that the orcs would overwhelm him before he could reach his family and get them to safety.  
  
The ranger touched the hilt of his sword reassuringly. If worse came to worse he would engage the orcs in combat and hopefully buy his family a bit more time to escape. He could only pray it would be enough if it should come to that.  
  
Arathorn continued to follow Gilranean's footsteps deeper into the forest casting a wary eye at his surroundings. The deeper he journeyed the more uneasy he became. Tension crackled in the air and the whole forest seemed strained as though waiting for some devastation to occur at any moment and throw this peaceful world into utter chaos.  
  
Some evil was about. Some evil that his family was walking straight into...  
  
Arathorn could feel his options running short. There were orcs behind him coming ever foreword and now some dark forces ahead of him. He and his family were becoming ensnared in a trap that he feared none of them would escape before this day was through. But he would not give up hope. Only when one began to despair was the battle truly lost.  
  
So Arathorn continued headstrong through the encroaching forest ignoring the warning signals tingling his senses to near distraction. Aragorn and Gilranean could very well be in danger and he would endure some discomfort if that was what it took to keep them safe.  
  
Arathorn glanced down at his wife's trail to ensure he was still traveling in the correct direction when he halted alarmingly in his tracks.  
  
It was no longer a single set of tracks before his observant eyes. But rather several sets of footsteps...and not human. Or elven for that matter.  
  
"No it can't be..." Arathorn whispered with large frightened eyes as he ran his hand carelessly over one of the large footsteps that stood beside the set of footsteps he had become accustomed to following. "Orcs..." Arathorn muttered out in frustration. "They were surrounded...and then taken. But why?" Arathorn talked in jumbled thoughts as he surveyed the ground trying to determine what had occurred.  
  
His wife and child had been suddenly surrounded by orcs. Gilranean's prints became scuffled indicating she had put up a fight...but Arathorn knew he would expect no less from her. She would never sit idly be and allow herself to be taken especially with their son in danger.  
  
Arathorn followed the prints as they took off again going even farther into the woods. He kept his eyes focused on Gilranean's prints trying to ignore the large orc prints surrounding her own. He would make those foul beasts pay if they had hurt his family...the orcs would all taste the steel of his blade before he was through with them. A fierce protective anger burned in the ranger's eyes fueling his body so he felt stronger and more endurant.  
  
But why are Gilranean's prints so light now? Arathorn thought in slight concern. Why wasn't she carrying Aragorn? Where was his son? The ranger felt the pinnings of panic setting to steal away his firm resolve.  
  
What had become of his child?  
  
Suddenly disturbing images flashed through the ranger's mind. He was in a clearing...no a camp site....an orc campsite if the pile of animal and orc bones tossed to in the center of the camp was any indication.  
  
There were orcs ambling about the area none could see the ranger as he viewed the scene with a detached standpoint and so the human was unhindered as he walked freely throughout the campsite.  
  
His eyes led him to the edge of the camp to a large tree. Someone was tied to it... or something. Arathorn couldn't make out quite what the bloodied heap was, but he felt a wave of sympathy for the poor creature.  
  
As Arathorn got closer he gasped as he tried to breathe through suddenly paralyzed lungs...Gilranean.  
  
"NO!" He screamed in a tormented rage as he saw his wife's broken and blooded form. He couldn't tell is she still breathed, but he just seemed to know undeniably that she was dead.  
  
The demons had killed her...cruelly beating her to death. And he would have their blood for it. Arathorn pulled his sword from his sheath and turned with a blood lust to take out every one of the foul beasts. They would pay dearly for what they had done.  
  
Arathorn was immediately stopped in his tracks as he heard a cry wrack the clearing seeming to linger in the air like a sorrowful note of grief. The cry was followed soon after by a scream and Arathorn turned back towards his bound wife.  
  
She lived! Was the first thought that entered Arathorn's mind, but as his eyes fell upon his wife again his hope's cruelly crushed.  
  
She did not move...nor breathe.  
  
It was not her screams that rent the air.  
  
Arathorn looked frantically around at where the scream originated and then there... a figure on the ground at his wife's feet....his son.  
  
Aragorn lay in a crumpled heap lying in a pool of his mother's own blood and not seeming to care. And there was an orc towering over the cowering child carrying a bloody whip in his hand. The orc brought the whip down on the boy's prone back eliciting another heart wrenching scream from the defenseless child. Tell me where your father is boy...where is the heir of Isildur? The orc demanded as he continued to beat the unresponsive child...lost in his own grief and shock.  
  
Arathorn felt his ire rising and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to wretch this cruel orcs head off his body. The ranger stepped angrily foreword blood lust dancing in his eyes and then the image evaporated and he again stood back where he had started.  
  
The human blinked a few times shaking his head to shake off the lingering disorientation the vision had caused. Arathorn was certainly gifted with foresight, but it had always been in the form of intuition...instincts, never a vision. Only a powerful foreshadowing could have led to such an epiphany.  
  
Arathorn set off quickly after his family. He had no more time to spare. His family suffered because of him...those beasts were after him. He would make them pay dearly for the evil they had inflicted on his loved ones. And he would save them in time. Arathorn promised himself firmly. He would not fail. The Valar had given him this vision for a reason...he was meant to rescue his wife and child before the orcs could take their precious lives...even if Arathorn had to die to achieve this end. He would do so gladly and without remorse. As long as Gilranean and Aragorn were safe that was all that mattered now.  
  
Arathorn easily evaded several orc sentries...after all orcs weren't the most highly intelligent creatures much to the ranger's benefit. He figured he was probably getting close to the orc's camp as the number of orc sentries steadily increased.  
  
The human's deductions were proved to as a shout rang out across the forest..  
  
"No." Arathorn whispered mournfully. "I'm too late." The vision had been proved true. He had failed.  
  
Arathorn ran at a breakneck speed towards the ear-bleeding cry of his son finally reaching the outskirts of the orc encampment.  
  
Arathorn quickly scanned the camp praying to the Valar and all that was good that his family still lived. That the vision had not yet come to pass and he could still save them.  
  
The ranger located the all too familiar tree and its bound occupant. It didn't seem real as Arathorn slowly snuck closer and made out the form of his beloved wife bound, broken, and bleeding. Her head hung loosely upon her chest and he knew with deadly certainty his wife was truly gone.  
  
Bitter tears sprang to Arathorn's eyes. He had failed her. He was supposed to protect her. He'd promised to keep her safe when they'd made their vows of union and she'd trusted him. And now he'd broken his promise. Now she was gone. Arathorn felt so hopelessly lost as he bowed his head in shame no longer carrying who saw his mournful tears. All was lost now what did it matter if the orcs spotted him. He deserved death for failing his wife and child...child. Wait Aragorn. Where was Aragorn? In the vision he still lived. Could he still be saved?  
  
Arathorn looked up frantically searching the campsite. There he was his son was crumpled upon the ground seemingly dead if it were not for the tears that periodically dropped from the child's closed lids.  
  
The child unexpectedly spasmed a scream retched from his lips in combination with the rough lap of leather across skin.  
  
Arathorn stared coldly at that all too familiar scene before him. An orc had come up behind his grieving child and smacked the boy with his whip.  
  
"Where is your father...where is the heir of Isildur?" The orc sneered preparing to bring the whip down again at the child's unresponsiveness.  
  
"I'm right here." Arathorn growled angrily as he charged into the camp burning with an uncontrollably impassioned rage. He began hacking at the throng of orcs with a furious skill and speed born over the fierce protection he felt for his son. If it was the last thing he did he would save Aragorn no matter the cost. He would not fail the boy as he had Gilranean.  
  
Young Aragorn came out of his shocked daze as he saw his father come into the camp sword blazing.  
  
Aragorn watched with a detached sense of astonishment as his father slashed and cut through the throng of orcs in what seemed like a perfectly choreographed dance. There was a fire...a power about his father that the young boy had never seen before and it entranced him as he watched the deadly dance play out before him.  
  
But the graceful dance was abruptly cut off as an arrow flashed through the air. Arathorn hearing the deadly projectile turned his head around eyes locking briefly on his son's wide frightened eyes before the arrow entered his eye killing him instantly and sending his body crumpling to the forest floor.  
  
"Daddy...No" Aragorn's cries echoed in Arathorn's ears as he met the blackness and knew no more... Arathorn opened his eyes with a tense hesitance surprised when bring sunlight did not shine insistently upon his eyes. He blinked his eyes a few times before making out the image of a woman leaning over him.  
  
"Gilranean..." He whispered in shocked surprise. "You live." Arathorn replied in awe as he ran his hand gently down her cheek. She looked even more beautiful...more ethereal than he had ever seen her. The ranger could almost swear she even had a faint glow about her.  
  
Gilranean laid her hands upon his own reaching one as it rubbed over her cheek and smiled compassionately down at her husband. "Nay...I do not live...at least not like you think."  
  
"What do you mean?" Arathorn asked confusion crinkling his forehead. He took a hasty glance around and realized they were surrounded by darkness. It was not an evil foreboding darkness, but surprisingly peaceful and reassuring in some strange way. "Where are we? What has happened?" Arathorn begin to throw out questions as his curiosity got the better of him.  
  
"Shh..." Gilranean smiled as she put her finger against her husband's wandering lips, silencing him instantly.  
  
As she helped Arathorn to his feet she began to explain all that had happened. "We are of middle earth no more my love. Our time there is through. We are to journey to the hall of Mandos."  
  
"What...no." Arathorn replied a look of panic on his face. "We can't be dead. Valar no. I have failed you." Arathorn hung his head and fought off more tears. He had failed his wife and also his son. There was no one left to protect the boy and now he would soon join them. At least he hoped it was soon. He did not want his son to suffer needlessly by the hands of those merciless orcs.  
  
Gilranean squeezed her husband's hand in compassion as she let her husband weep unsure how to ease his hurting heart...for hers hurt deeply for her son as well.  
  
A glowing light in Arathorn's peripheral vision sent his head snapping up as he looked to the source of this strange glow.  
  
A man stood before him surrounded by a mighty light, looking at his with a sad smile and wise age-old eyes.  
  
"Mandos..." Arathorn whispered in awe bowing his head in reverence at the Valar before him.  
  
"Why do you cry Arathorn? You have not failed." Mandos replied looking curiously back for an answer and yet seeming to have known the answer all along.  
  
"But I have failed." Arathorn replied hanging his head in shame. "My wife is dead because I could not protect her and now my son will join us. The world of men will be forever broken and there will be no king for Isildur's line is broken. All hope for middle earth is lost. Please forgive me." Arathorn bowed in subjection.  
  
"Rise Arathorn." Mandos replied with authority and yet a gentleness behind his powerful tone.  
  
Arathorn immediately did as he was bid, but still hung his head in shame holding his wife's hand freely accepting the love and comfort she shared with her singular touch.  
  
"Look at me Arathorn...son of Arador." Mandos insisted.  
  
The ranger lifted his eyes and did as he was bade. Waiting for the Valar's condemnation and punishment with trepidation. He had failed the Valar and all of middle earth. He would be forbidden in the halls of Mandos and cast out. He only prayed the Valar would spare his wife and permit her entrance.  
  
"I have no intention of keeping you from my halls." Mandos smiled reading the human's thoughts. "You have earned your rightful place among your forefathers. I tell you Arathorn you did not fail. It was not yours nor Gilranean's destiny to reunite middle earth against the dark forces of Sauron."  
  
"Then who shall... Mandos?" Arathorn asked.  
  
"Can you think of no other Lord Arathorn?"  
  
"Aragorn..." The ranger whispered. "But how. He will be killed. I did not save him."  
  
"Perhaps...perhaps not." Mandos replied mysteriously. "You held the orcs at bay long enough to buy the elves enough time to rescue the boy. Aragorn will be rescued and the line of Isildur will live on." "But what good will it do if he is to be captured and enslaved by the elves once more. He can not fulfil his destiny as a slave." Arathorn insisted.  
  
"It is necessary...to keep him safe. It shall not always be thus."  
  
"Will...will our son ever find happiness?" Gilranean asked hesitantly. "Or is he doomed to live a life of heartbreak and tragedy?"  
  
"He will suffer much hardship...more than most. For the darkness will forever haunt his steps. But I have foreseen great joy for him as well. He will have many friends who will go to Mordor and back with him if he asks of it, and one day perhaps find love..." Mandos answered not elaborating any further than that. "Now come it is time to return to my halls and join your forefathers."  
  
Mandos turned around and begin walking towards a glowing light that eventually engulfed him...Arathorn and Gilranean walked hand in hand following after the Valar. And as the light encompassed Arathorn's and Gilranean's forms they suddenly felt more happiness than they had ever imagined...   
  
Aragorn watched in horror as the arrow took his father's life and sent him crashing to the ground.  
  
An orc kicked his father's prone form over and stared a few minutes at the body before looking up angrily.  
  
"Who killed him? Whose arrow is this?" The orc captain demanded. "The master will not be pleased that we have damaged his prize."  
  
A few orcs pushed a quivering orc foreword who was holding a bow and arrow.  
  
"I...I am sorry. I was aiming...aiming for his shoulder, but he...he moved." The orc cowered in fright before his angry captain.  
  
The orc captain grabbed the sniveling orc underling by the neck forcing his dagger into the orcs chest and up into his heart killing the foul beast before throwing him into the throng of watching orcs.  
  
Immediately after the dead orc hit the ground his companions pounced on him pulling at flesh and bone eating to their heart's content upon their fallen comrade.  
  
"Finish the traitor quickly and drop camp." Gronok growled sourly. "We will take the other one to this master...perhaps the young one will appease him." The orc captain sneered maliciously at the weeping child savoring the boy's pain and grief.  
  
When Aragorn was sure the orcs were too busy to pay him much mind he scooted over to his father's prone body. The boy leaned over his father's disposed body shaking him hesitantly.  
  
"Daddy...wake up daddy. Please don't leave me too. Don't leave me alone. Mama said you'd always be here." Aragorn wept at his father's refusal to respond.  
  
Aragorn curled up by his father's side and silently cried a river of tears as he realized both his parents were gone. He felt so terribly empty and quietly prayed to the Valar to take his life as well so he didn't have to be alone anymore...  
  
Yo', whatever happened to the values of humanity  
  
Whatever happened to the fairness in equality  
  
Instead in spreading love we're spreading animosity  
  
Lack of understanding, leading lives away from unity  
  
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feelin' under  
  
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feelin' down  
  
There's no wonder why sometimes I'm feelin' under  
  
Gotta keep my faith alive till love is found  
(Black Eyed Peas: Where is the Love?)  
  
Estel was shaking. No wait someone was shaking him. The boy shook his head trying to clear it as he turned to see what had pulled him from his memories.  
  
Firithgalad was bending over him shaking his roughly by the scruff of his neck sending waves of pain running down his spine.  
  
"You listen to me boy." Firithgalad hissed roughly. "I'd advice you to pay attention boy. You'll live longer."  
  
"I should just kill you, but where would the fun in that be." The elf guard laughed coldly as he watched the boy's eyes widen in fear at the implied statement.  
  
"That's why I thought we could play a little game...you like games don't you?" Firithgalad rubbed his hand slowly down the boy's cheek wiping away the wet salty tears the boy silently wept. The elf guard crouched over the boy a moment longer savoring the boy's fear, feeling the child's rapid heartbeat fluttering in his chest like a trapped bird flapping against the bars of it's cage.  
  
"We're going on a little hunt. Or I should say I'm going on a little hunt. You on the other hand are going to be the prey. Just to make things interesting we'll play with real arrows and everything. Doesn't that sound like fun?" Firithgalad laughed coldly as Estel flinched away pressing himself further back against his tree support trying to get as far away from the insane elf an possible.  
  
"And since you're so keen on escaping this is your big chance." Firithgalad continued undeterred by the boy silently shaking his head from side to side, in complete shock over the pronouncement. "The rules are simply. You get away from me, you're free. No one to stop you. But if I catch you...well lets just say you don't want me to." Firithgalad cackled darkly as he pulled out his hunting dagger, yanked the frightened boy's head up painfully, and ran his knife smoothly acrossed the boy's neck, drawing a thin red line to emphasize the consequences of capture.  
  
The elf guard resheathed his knife in a smooth motion before pushing the boy roughly away sending the child crashing to the ground throwing his weight upon his broken wrist as the boy tried to catch his fall. Estel hissed in pain turning over on his back clutching the throbbing appendage as a wave of dizziness swept over him leaving him feeling nauseous and weak.  
  
"You have one hour and then I come looking for you. Run fast little edain, run very fast." Firithgalad sneered down coldly at the boy before turning away and jumping into the nearest tree vanishing easily into the tree's camouflage.  
  
Estel feeling the dizzy spelling slowly starting to dissipate began to slowly pull himself up using the tree behind him for support. Finally regaining his feet Estel leaned heavily against the standing timber struggling to even out his haggard breathing.  
  
An arrow whizzed through the air moments later, buzzing past Estel's ear, grazing it ever so slightly, before settling snuggly into the tree beside him.  
  
"Didn't I tell you to run boy. Your time's running out." Firithgalad called from somewhere in the dense foliage of the treetops. Estel slowly backed away from the clearing, looking around the forest, but could not find the source of the voice.  
  
The boy continued slowly backing away from the clearing moving deeper and deeper into the forest...  
  
As the clearing disappeared from sight Estel allowed himself a quick gasp of relief before he examined his location. He realized with a growing sense of dread that he was completely lost. He had no idea where he was or where to go...where to run. These woods were a mystery too him and he felt rising panic disrupting his normal heart rate.  
  
The sound of a snapping twig behind him drew Estel's attention. He could see nothing through the thick canopy of nature as he strained his eyes to find the source of the noise. Was it just as animal...or was it...was it Firithgalad?  
  
Estel began to back cautiously away from the sound his body tensed with uncertainty and fear.  
  
As another crackling sound erupted through the forest Estel turned around and began running furiously further into the darkening forest...  
  
People killin', people dyin'  
  
Children hurt and you hear them cryin'  
  
Can you practice what you preach  
  
And would you turn the other cheek  
  
Father, Father, Father help us  
  
Send us some guidance from above  
  
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'  
  
Where is the love  
(Black Eyed Peas: Where is the Love?)  
  
A rumbling over head shook the earth followed by a down pouring of rain, as though the Valar themselves were crying.  
  
In scarcely minutes the boy was soaked through and shivering from the chill of the coming night, but he continued running certain that stopping would mean his death.  
  
The ground quickly became muddy causing the young boy to fall several times on the slippery earth, but each time he fleetly picked his bleeding broken body up from the forest floor and set off running once more as fast as his legs could carry him.  
  
Before long the boy was marred with numerous scratches and bruises from the undergrowth rubbing against his unprotected skin. His clothing easily caught on the foliage and now lay on his body in tatters, scantly rags now. He tired quickly as his already waning energy was thoroughly depleted till only pure adrenaline alone kept him going.  
  
"I'm coming for you human." An eerily familiar voice called out from the treetops.  
  
Estel swerved around looking frantically among the trees knowing with deadly certainty to whom the voice belonged.  
  
His stomach dropped as he realized he'd been found.  
  
Firithgalad was up there somewhere watching, waiting, playing with him. Despair overran the young boy's heart as he recognized he could not escape. There was no way in his already weakened state he could outrun on elf.  
  
Barely realizing what was happening before it did, an arrow hit Estel in the shoulder sending him crashing to the forest floor.  
  
The pain in the boy's arm sent waves of dizziness washing over him, muddling his mind. And yet Estel found a strange sense of calm only a warrior's spirit possessed. He would not sit here and wait to be slaughtered like an animal.  
  
Putting the pain to the back of his mind. Estel pulled himself up on wavering feet and continued running on with speed born of desperation. He heard a soft plunking sound behind him, of something jumping from the trees and impacting with the ground.  
  
Estel chanced a glance back and made out Firithgalad's swift from following stealthily behind him. The elf was catching up on the wounded boy with graceful ease, a cold confident smile clearly readable upon the warrior's face as he advanced on his prey. Glancing behind him had cost Estel dearly as the mud-slicked ground left him on unsteady footing. The child jerked his whole body around trying to stop the slide, momentarily distracted from his pursuer as he sought furiously to regain his balance.  
  
Thus he was completely caught off guard as a second arrow came slamming into his thigh a few inches above the knee. The force of impact finally overbalanced the wobbling boy so he again fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.  
  
Estel could hear fast approaching steps coming towards him past the ringing in his ears. Normally the steps of an elf were imperceptible, but Firithgalad was purposefully weighing his steps so the boy could hear how close the elf guard was upon him, playing upon the boy's despair and fear.  
  
Estel raised his head that was suddenly feeling very heavy and forced tired eyes opened to look upon his advancing purser.  
  
Firithgalad seeing the child's eyes upon him widened his malicious smile as he slowly unsheathed his dagger. He directed it so it glinted off the fading light making the knife easily recognizable to the boy's eyes.  
  
"It looks like the games up boy. You filthy edain could never match up to the power of an elf. All so weak, so pathetic. And oh how I can't wait to hear you scream when I skin you... alive."  
  
"No...please don't." Estel wept in tears of utter frustration, helplessness, and pain as he dragged himself across the ground leaving a trail of red in his wake before he pushed up against the back of an immovable tree. He leaned heavily against it breathing in labored gasps, his small movement seeming to take the last of his strength.  
  
But Estel kept his gaze level with the advancing elf. Fear shone clearly in the young boy's eyes, but he refused to give Firithgalad the satisfaction of robbing him of his spirit. His parents had always told him to look a problem in the face. Never give up, never back down even in the darkest hour for that was the greatest defeat... when you failed yourself.  
  
"Human's are such strange creatures. One second you're pleading for your pathetic lives and the next you stare back with those defiant eyes. Refuse to admit defeat, admit your weak even to the last."  
  
Firithgalad kneeled by the wounded child running his hunting knife casually down the boy's cheek eliciting a small whimper of fear.  
  
"Please...please don't do this. I'll be good. I won't try to escape again. Please...don't hurt me." Estel sobbed as his hands searched along the forest floor in a frenzied state for some kind of weapon anything to defend himself.  
  
He may not have been the happiest child, but he did not wish to die and certainly not in the way Firithgalad had planned.  
  
"Call me master. Show me you've learned your place and maybe...just maybe I'll be merciful and end your life quickly. I'll simply slit your throat nice, quick, and painless and leave your body for the orcs to find." Firithgalad whispered coldly in the boy's ear causing the child to flinch away.  
  
Estel looked defiantly back at the laughing elf refusing to give into the elf lord's demands. He would rather die than call Firithgalad...master. The elf intended to take his life anyway so if he was destined to die than at least he would not give Firithgalad this single satisfaction.  
  
Estel kept his weary eyes locked on Firithgalad's blade, tremors of fright wracking the poor child's frame as he waited for the slash that would end his life...  
  
People killin', people dyin'  
  
Children hurt and you hear them cryin'  
  
Can you practice what you preach  
  
And would you turn the other cheek  
  
Father, Father, Father help us  
  
Send us some guidance from above  
  
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'  
  
Where is the love (Love)  
  
Where is the love (The love)  
  
Where is the love (The love)  
  
Where is the love  
  
The love, the love  
  
Reviews: I want to first just give a general thanks to everyone who has reviewed my story. I know that reviewing isn't always the most entertaining part of reading a story. I've been a fanfic reader for a few years now and  
I know that after you read a story sometime you just don't feel up to reviewing so I appreciate all the willing reader's who have offered their advice and suggestions. I'm not going to become a better reader if I don't know what I've done wrong with a story and what I'm doing write and that is why your feedback is invaluable. You make me a better writer and hopeful in  
the process making it more enjoyable for you as well. So thanks and I  
appreciate all your comments.  
  
Blue4Dogs: Thank you so much for your wonderful comments. I was very touched that you didn't think I sounded like a beginning writer. Your comment was the first one I received and it immediately inspired me and I started to work on the next chapter right after I read it. As for the "Neigh" "Nay" incident I wish I could just say I'm from Sweden or elvish is my first language and that's how we spell it to prevent myself from too much embarrassment, but unfortunately English is my first and only language. The funny thing is when I wrote that word I was sitting there trying to search my memory banks for how you spell nay and it just didn't process and I ended up with our friendly horse greeting instead. I promise to fix that when I do my editing and I apologize for the error. I hope it at least perhaps brought a bit of amusement when you read it and started wandering why the cast kept talking like horses or something...lol. I also tried to put the correct form of "nay" into this chapter so that's a fun word find you can entertain yourself if you happen to every be so unbelievably bored you can't find anything...and I do mean anything better to do. Lol So thanks again and keep spotting any weird words you happen to find in my story.  
  
KisstheRainGirl12498: I absolutely loved your reviews for both chapters. When you told me your cried I was getting a little teary eyed myself. I love to get such emotional responses because I know I've really reached the reader if I can make you feel the story. I think you might like the flashback in this chapter because it does have some emotional tension. I promise there will be no slash ever in this story so that's nothing to worry about. I do apologize to anyone who might like slash, but I'm keep this baby slash free. And I know you wanted Elrond in the story. I changed my mind and decided not to put him in....just kidding. I swear it was a joke don't flame it. I'm sorry I didn't put him in this chapter, but that darn flash back took up so much space I figured I would post what I have and introduce him in the next chapter. I swear he's one of the main characters in chapter three also. "Elrond" is the first word in chapter three also. So that's something to look foreword to with anticipation =)  
  
Gleogidd: Thank you for your review. I do agree with you that Estel did seem a bit too trusting. I was a bit concerned about their meeting because I felt like I did make Estel seem a little quick to befriend Legolas considering all the abuse he's suffered from elves. I also thought the reverse was true. I wanted Legolas to be a bit more standoffish at first. I immediately made him seem curious about the human when I think it would work better if he wasn't quite so immediately drawn to Estel, but a bit more distant. When I work on editing I will probably touch this scene up a bit and try to define my characters a little better. I loved this comment because I thought you really gave me a deep analysis. You evaluated my characters and have given me some great input. Thank you so much.  
  
Gal: I hope the anticipation for the next chapter wasn't too much. I'm sorry it took so long to post, but I hope it was worth it =)  
  
Nerfenherder: I'm worried about Estel too. But I'm also worried about my mental health. I keep coming up with all these ways to get poor Estel in some form of trouble or another. By the time you finish reading this story your going to wonder how it is humanly possible for Estel to get into trouble in just about every single chapter from crazed elves, to orcs, to himself, etc. It's only gonna get wilder and by the end the question on every one's mind will be how can Estel still be alive after all he's been through.  
  
Eph: I loved it when you said "Eh gads!" I was just cracking up. I was so tempted to have someone in the story say that just because it was so funny. Who knows maybe by the end I'll throw that in somewhere just because it is so an expressive and highly amusing phrase. Thank you for your review and I look foreword to reading more of your input.  
  
Kassio: Your right it definitely wasn't a good move to provoke Firithgalad that way. What was that crazy elf prince thinking? I would think it would be obvious that he would just be getting poor Estel in more trouble...but than again isn't that the point...lol. It wouldn't be any fun if Estel didn't have his very own evil villain chasing him around. And now at least Estel is justified every time he accuses Legolas of getting him into trouble...right? Lol. But don't worry Legolas isn't down and out for the count. I was going to drop him pretty quickly, but then I changed my mind so Legolas will be making regular appearances throughout the story and play a role in helping save the day. Maybe that is...I wouldn't want to give too much away. Wink. Wink.  
  
Grumpy: Oh no it might be too late for Legolas to save the day after reading this chapter. Let's hope someone gets there in time. I'll give you a hint...Gimli is not coming to save the day.  
  
Nina: I'm really glad you liked the background information. I know it's not necessarily the most interesting part of a story, but I think it really sets a mood. I wasn't sure how far off canon and move-verse I was going so I figured I'd give my own interpretation of the events so everyone is on the same page. I added some more background information in this chapter in the form of a flashback and I hope you also found it beneficial. Thank you so much for your review and I look foreword to getting your opinion on this chapter also.  
  
Tung: Thank you. I was aiming to create a story that was a bit different. I didn't want to get caught up in plot loops where I ended up basically telling the same story as somewhere else. I thought this was something that hadn't been too in-depthly before and I thought it would be an interesting new perspective on how everything could have changed...  
  
Sielge: Thank you for your response. I'm sorry it took a bit of time to get  
  
up this chapter, but it is a fifty page chapter so I think I deserve a little more than a week to get it up. I hope you find it as entertaining and look foreword to hearing your thoughts.  
  
Cookie: It was actually just a surprising coincidence that "Okay" was never in the story. I tried to keep my dialogue as contextual as I could and I'm pleased that I did achieve this to some extent. I tried to be especially careful with my dialogue in this previous chapter cause I suddenly felt I had something to live up to now. I would just die if I ended up accidentally sticking okay in there. I almost did in one spot, but fortunately caught it in time. I hope to make this story an okay-free environment, but please forgive me if I fail in my task. I'd be grateful if you point out any modern wording I might accidentally use. Thank you for your review and I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations.  
  
SilverToeKee: I really did think my story was a bit unique and I'm pleased you also thought it was a bit different than the average story. I noticed there was a lot of Legolas slavery type stories. He's always such a perfect slave candidate because he's so innocent looking, but so very defiant. It makes for an interesting scenario. But I felt it was a bit more realistic for the elves to be victorious over the human race. Elves not only have thousands of years of experience on the human race, but they have superior senses and superior maneuverability that makes them ideal fighters. They can easily out last, out run, and out maneuver a human in most cases. And they also have stealth on their side. If the elves had the mentality of the Haradim I think it would logistically be realistic that they would have potentially conquered the human race centuries ago. Fortunately elves are considered a bit more of a peaceful race and don't seek land or riches as much as most races which has kept them in the book verse from taking over middle earth. But I figured that it could easily be conceivable that the king of Mirkwood who is always renown for his bad temper and dislike or humans would begrudge Isildur for not destroying the one ring and lash out. But then I also felt the need to show that not all the creatures of a race would condone that kind of behavior. A lot of writers have talked about the bad relations between Mirkwood and Rivendell because of how they ultimately felt about humans and I thought this was an excellent way to explain why the two kingdoms don't particularly get along well. I haven't figured out how to put it in yet, but my intention is to go so far and imply that Elrond is running an "underground" railroad system to free human slaves from Mirkwood control. That is why Rivendell is known as a place of refuge and also why Rivendell is on such good terms with the rangers who also work to free slaves. So that's how I wanted to spin that all kinda. Thanks again for your insights.  
  
MidnightWolf3: My goal was to make this story very tight. It makes it very time consuming and the chapters are very long, but I think and hope it makes for a better story. I've noticed so writers really seem to jump around in their stories and often leave out scenes that would make the story more enjoyable and I didn't want to fall into that kind of hole. I want to be highly descriptive to really get the reader interested and make sure the story has a good flow to it. I hope I am achieving this goal and continue to do so in the future while still keeping the story interesting and not dull and stagnant which is my biggest concern.  
  
Vanessa: Thanks. I will try my best to post as quickly as I can. Please don't give up on me if I'm a bit slow. I put a lot of time and effort into my writing and I hope it shows and makes the long waits worth it.  
  
Lindahoyland: Thanks Linda. It means a lot to be added to an alert list. It makes me feel special =) I hope you continue to like my story and keep me on your alert list for the whole thing waiting in anticipation for each chapter. =) lol. Thank you for your comments and I hope to keep up the good work. 


	4. Chapter 3: Security, Comfort, and Love

**Authors Note: Hello everyone. I'm sorry that I have neglected to update in so long. I've had a sick family member for the last two months plus school to content with that has kept me from the computer more than I would like. I apologize before hand for all the grammatical/spelling errors, etc. One of my awesome viewers has suggested I get a beta reader, but unfortunately I haven't had the time to find one yet and I've not had an opportunity to re-read over the chapter myself. I know you have all been waiting long enough so I decided you'd rather have something than wait any longer. I will try to certainly update sooner next time, but I hope you understand I can't promise anything. But I won't abandon the story so you need not worry about that. Just bear with me. Thanks again and I hope you enjoy it.**   
Slave to Hope 

Chapter Three: Security, Comfort, and Love

"Ha, Ha, Ha, very funny Elhoir. Do start acting your age and not your bow size, for a change." Elladan sneered at his brother who was draped over his horse laughing hysterically.

"You should...should have seen...yo....your face!" Elhoir gasped out between fits of giggles. "I thought....ha ha...you were going...."snort"...to...to wet your pants."

That morning much to Elladan's dissatisfaction he had woken up to discover his bag was filled with spiders.

But it hadn't been nearly as simple as that.....

The elder Perendil twin had risen early to make breakfast. He had set to retrieve his provisions, sticking his hand inside his bag, without looking, ending with quite a shock.

Elladan's arm began tingling causing the elf, much to his future embarrassment, to scream out in surprise, waking the rest of the camp in the process.

To make matters even worse in the elder elf's attempt to free his hand from his new found enemy; Elladan had nearly toppled into his newly made fire. If was only by the grace of the Valar and his father's quick elven reflexes that he had managed to escape a ruined pair or pants and a very sore bum.

Elladan glared darkly at his twin promising retribution of the worst kind, but Elhoir paid his brother's look little heed still caught up in his own amusement.

However Lord Elrond, currently riding between his two wayward sons to prevent any fighting between the two, couldn't help but notice the twinkle of mischief sparklingly in his eldest son's eyes.

The elf lord knew that look all too well and resisted the urge to shudder, at the impending doom it foretold.

"I'll not have you retaliating on your brother Elladan ... understand!" Elrond barked out.

"But ada he..." Elladan began to protest.

"He will be on his best behavior also. Isn't that right Elhoir?" Elrond directed his stern gaze to his youngest causing Elhoir to immediately drop the smile off his face. "You will not pull any of your pranks while we're in Mirkwood. Our relations with the wood elves are tentative at best as it is and I would not be pleased to spend the remainder of my immortal life in the Mirkwood dungeons."

"Oh ada you exaggerate." Elladan taunted. "Perhaps a few centuries at best. I'm sure we'd find a way to escape eventually."

"We are Noldor elves after all." Elhoir chimed in smugly with his back suddenly erect and his head hung arrogantly in the air. "Those wood elves won't even know what hit them."

"Elladan! Elhoir! Don't make me repeat myself or by the Valar you will live to regret it, as short a time as the case may be." Elrond's eyes burned dangerously causing his two sons to shrink back on their horses lest they be burned alive by their father's gaze alone.

"Yes ada." The twins mumbled in unison, identical pouts falling on their faces shrouding the small party in a rare bout of silence.

Elrond found his mind wandering in this unexpected, but not unpleasant lag in chatter.

He thought back to the camp this morning and found a familiar twitching at the corner of his lips. He had to admit Elladan's face had been simply priceless. The poor elf had looked near to joining Mandos in his halls, and the elf prince had refused to go anywhere near his bag claiming some devilment had taken it.

Elladan had refused to see reason until his brother had shown him the travel bag was indeed not possessed, but the "evil spirits" were actually nothing more than spiders.

Elrond was quite sure after that little mishap that Elladan had every intention of throwing Elhoir in the fire to take the elder elf's place, if he hadn't intervened that is.

The elf lord shook his head in exasperation. He didn't know how those two managed not to kill each other when he wasn't around to keep them in check.

Elladan and Elhoir stopped suddenly and began to look warily around the forest pulling lord Elrond from his own thoughts as he tried to determine the reason for this unexpected halt.

"The forest has gone silent." Elladan whispered as he stared intently out at the forest expanse, gripping his bow tightly at his side ready to be notched at a moment's notice.

Elrond mimicked his son's searching gazes and sought to determine the cause behind the forest's disturbance, chiding himself for not paying attention in the first place.

A dark part of his mind couldn't help, but admonish how he, a great elf lord, had managed to survive all this time without his sons due to his inattentive nature.

Elrond had never liked that cynical part of his mind. No, not one bit. It sounded strangely like his advisor, Glorfindel, which only made it all the more annoying.

"I hear something over that way." Elhoir replied after a few minutes, directing his gaze to the south.

Elrond and Elladan followed suit quickly picking up on the scurrying noises that seemed to emanate from the deep recesses of the forest.

"What is it?" Elladan asked.

"It's too quiet to be an orc or a warg for that matter. Too noisy to be an elf." Elhoir commented.

"Whatever it is it seems to be alone." Elladan added.

The three elves continued to ride foreword slowly, scanning the forest cautiously, for any potential threats.

A scream rang out bringing a sudden stunned halt to the riders and leaving a deafening silence within the forest.

"It sounds like a wounded animal." Elladan whispered after a few tense moments.

"No not a wounded animal." Elrond replied hesitantly. "A child...a wounded child."

Elrond's twin sons turned wide eyes on their father at this unexpected pronouncement. With unspoken communication between the three elves they spurred their horses onward towards the origin of the distressing cry.

"Ada I see something." Elhoir called out as he squinted through the think foliage and past the slowly abating rain that slightly hindered his eyesight. "It looks like a young boy. You were right ada."

"He looks injured. He's moving too slowly and is that...an arrow in his shoulder." Elladan added as he strained his eyes trying to make out a scarcely perceptible form stumbling recklessly through the forest.

"Yes I'm afraid it is, but not is not the ti..." Before Elrond could finish his response he caught sight of another blurry form seemingly following behind the wounded child.

As the elf lord and his sons approached ever closer the image slowly solidified and Elrond concluded the second form was that of an elf...much older than the first.

Seemingly in slow motion Elrond watched the second form suddenly stop in its track and unsling a bow off it's shoulder. The mysterious elf retrieved an arrow out of the quiver located on his back and took careful aim before firing in a graceful motion.

Elrond held his breathe as his eyes slowly followed the path of the flying arrow, a pattering of fear fluttering in his chest as he suspected where the arrow would land.

The elf lord was sure his heart had jumped straight into his throat as he watched with horror filled eyes, as the arrow plunged itself into the young child's leg, yanking a whimper from the small child's lips, as he went crashing to the forest floor.

"Ada he...he shot that child." Elhoir cried in astonishment.

"But why?" Elladan whispered turning sad tear strained eyes to his father, trusting fully in his horse to keep him safe. "He is just a child. He is not threat to that elf. Why should he wish to shoot the boy?"

Elrond rotated to look at his eldest son in turn seeing the obvious pain and confusion reflected in the young elf's eyes.

"Now is not the time for questions my sons. We must make with all haste. Come." Elrond gently nicked his own steed encouraging the horse to run faster with a few gentle words of elvish, to which the faithful companion was more than happy to comply.

Elladan and Elhoir performed similar actions quickly following on the heels of their father.

Elrond paid his children no mind, as his eyes remained firmly fixed on the escalating scene before him. The elf lord watched the unknown elf stalking effortlessly towards the struggling boy.

Elrond caught a glint of something instantly in the elf's hand.

A knife!

Elrond Perendil gulped down his rising fear and spurred his horse to go even faster, intent upon getting close enough to stop this atrocity.

Why didn't the elf hear them? Surely they were making more than enough noise at this point? Why wouldn't this frustrating creature just turn around?

Stop moving Elrond willed with silent pleading Let me make it in time. Don't let this happen

"Please...Please don't do this. I'll be good. I won't escape again. Please don't hurt me." The child's pleas stung at the elf lord's ears.

Elrond's heart tore at the child's tearful words, and prayed to the Valar he would be able to save the boy. Something told him that if the young one should die all would be lost.

"Stop." Elrond shouted out at the elf as he maliciously laid his dagger against the boy's neck.

The anonymous elf turned at the unexpected shout surprise clear on his face at seeing three horses nearly barring down on him. Firithgalad had become so distracted by the task at hand he hadn't even heard the elves approach.

Estel used the distraction to his advantage frantically grabbing up the first weapon that came to hand, which appeared to be upon later inspection a rough palm sized rock. With a strength born of pure terror Estel slashed out with his make shift weapon scrapping roughly across his tormentors cheek leaving a line of red in its wake.

Firithgalad screamed in shocked pain as he grabbed his cheek trying to staunch the flow of blood now pouring down his face.

Estel forced himself to unsteady feet supported by the tree behind him. A wave of dizziness sent black spots before the young boy's eyes nearly sending him to the ground once more if he had not been leaning heavily against his tree companion.

Shaking his head resolutely Estel started to drag himself into the forest, ignoring the pain that jarred up his spine with every movement and the blood pounding angrily in his ears. He was seemingly oblivious to his surroundings.

He jerked his head up suddenly as he started to come out of his dazed haze. He became paralyzed with fear as ears heard the unmistakable pounding of hooves. His eyes widened in fright as he followed the sound to three horses galloping at full charge towards him scarcely minutes away from crushing the unsuspected child.

Estel tried to jump out of the way of the charging horses, only managing to twist his ankle, as he slipped on the muddy ground and fell painfully, on his broken wrist.

He gritted his teeth as the arrow in his leg snapped off at the end while its tip was lodged further into his leg scrapping agonizingly against the bone.

Estel curled in on himself placing his hands protectively over his head as he waited for the inescapable trampling that might potentially end his young life.

The boy could feel the ground shake beneath his haggard body as the horses fueled by momentum charged ever closer, and he tensed for the inevitable, closing his eyes instinctively, in the process.

He heard the sound of a horse screeching and looked up hesitantly to see the horse towering over him, it's hind legs raised, trying to prevent the child from falling under it's powerful hooves.

Estel said a quick prayer of thanks to the Valar as he rolled out of the way using the extra momentum to pull himself into a standing position once more.

He limped quickly towards the forest, hoping in the distraction perhaps the new comers would forget about him, and he could thus make good his escape.

As much as his body ached him and his strength fled him, Estel refused to just give up and wait around to see what would become of him. To give up would spell death, and he was not yet ready to accept this fate.

Elrond forced his horse up hard, watching with grim detachment how the horse's own momentum still carried it ever foreword, towards the prone child. The horse reared up, in a last ditch effort to prevent the inevitable, while Lord Elrond closed his eyes sadly, unable to bear the failure. He could not watch the boy die, not after all this.

After what seemed an eternity to the elf lord, the horse lowered itself back to the ground, with a resounding thud, nearly throwing Elrond off. Only sheer will power kept the elf lord seated.

He opened his eyes resignedly, preparing himself for the crushed and broken child he expected to find, but to his immense relief and confusion the ground before him was completely empty.

Elrond looked around the area frantically and sighed in relief as he spotted the boy dragging himself further into the dark recesses of the forest, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

The boy was certainly injured, but at least he was alive.

Elrond cast a calculating glance towards the unknown elf, still clutching at his bleeding cheek, ignoring his new guests, as he mumbled dwarvish curses under his breath.

Elrond felt a moment of indecision. Should he go after the boy or confront this anonymous elf? He feared if he went after the boy, this unknown elf would make his escape, and than the elf lord would never know the full story over what had occurred here, but the boy looked badly hurt. As a healer, Elrond was obligated to see to the boy's safety first.

Elrond finally came to a decision and turned to his sons who waited passively for their father to tell them what to do.

"Elladan, Elhoir, follow the boy and tend his wounds as best you can till I get there. I will speak with the elf; "Elrond nodded his head indicating the wounded elf. "and join your shortly."

"Ada are you sure that wise?" Elladan voiced his concern as he cast a suspicious and loathsome look at the bleeding elf.

"Yes, I will be fine. I can take care of myself well enough. I am an elf lord after all." Elrond smiled gently at his overprotective son, trying to reassure him. "Now go my sons. I fear the child may not be long from this world. I won't be far behind."

"Yes Ada." The twins nodded their heads solemnly, conceding to their father's orders, as they turned their horses around and galloped after the retreating boy.

Elrond smoothly dismounted from his own horse patting her gently on the nose in a sign of thanks, for all her help and patience, to which the horse nuzzled the elf lord gently, showing love and acceptance, for the kind elf.

Elrond cautiously approached the injured elf, fingering lightly the small dagger he kept tucked up his sleeve for emergencies. He did not know the elf's intent, but he fully intended to find out and would be prepared for the worst.

"Who are you and what is your business in King Thranduil's realm?" The mysterious elf glared testily finally acknowledging the elf lord's presence.

Elrond remained calm and unfazed by the other elf's threatening manner, except for his eyes, which glinted dangerously back at the insolent elf.

"I am Lord Elrond or Rivendell and my business is with King Thranduil alone."

A look of shock washed over the injured elf's face washing away the previous look of disgust. The elf rose quickly to his feet, bowing clumsily, to the elf lord in his haste.

"Forgive me Lord Elrond." The elf stuttered out in a very unelven like manner. "I did not realize."

"And who are you?" Elrond demanded cutting off the elf's diatribe.

"Firithgalad my lord. I am one of the palace guards."

"And what are you doing outside of the palace gates than?" Elrond asked brusquely, in no mood for this sniveling fool for an elf.

"Disciplining a slave my lord."

A slave? Elrond thought a bit astonished. So the child was human. He had thought the boy an elf. He had seemed to have some elvish quality about him. Strange the elf lord mused. Either way, be he human or elf, neither deserved such treatment.

"Disciplining." Elrond asked with disbelief clear in his voice. "You shot him with an arrow and it looked as though you were intending to slit the boy's throat before we arrived, and that of a child no less."

"He is just an edain." Firithgalad replied darkly his subjective demeanor instantly dissipating as his actions came into question. No one told him how to do his job, even an elf lord.

"And what did an edain do to deserve such treatment?" Elrond persisted, ignoring the dark glares the elf guard continuously shot at him.

"He was trying to escape."

"Escape...and this is a crime punishable by death?" Elrond asked impetuously, a look of clear disbelief on his face. How could a human child have possibly gotten out of the palace gates, past all of the king's own guards. It was preposterous. And the elf lord did not like to be lied to.

Firithgalad fidgeted slightly under the elf lord's intense gaze, averting his eyes from the lord's cold piercing ones unable to hold the powerful elf lord's gaze.

"As I thought." Elrond muttered irritably as though having found the answer in the other's actions. "Return to the palace and tell the healers to prepare for my arrival. The boy will need medical attention when I arrive."

"As you wish my lord." Firithgalad mumbled eyes still downcast as he bowed stiffly to the elf lord before turning abruptly and heading back towards the palace.

"As you should wish as well Firithgalad. I don't think your king will be too pleased to see how his guards have been treating his slaves. And I promise you I shall make him fully aware of the situation. If the boy should die I promise you the consequences will be grave indeed." Elrond's eyes burned dangerously making clear this was not a threat, but a promise.

"Ye...yes my lord." Firithgalad stuttered out as he felt the elf lord's full power burning into him.

"Now do as I've commanded." Elrond demanded with distaste as the elf continued to cower before him like a scared elfling. He was just too angry at the moment to care that he was obviously frightening the elf guard, and it was only by the grace of the Valar he hadn't ripped the elf limb from limb, for his cruel treatment.

Elrond turned his back on the elf, walking back towards his waiting horse, coldly dismissing the elf guard without another word.

The elf lord gracefully remounted and with a few tense words of elvish sent his faithful steed galloping after his sons, praying to the Valar to spare the human child, if he could help it.

Elladan couldn't help it!

He felt frustration overtaking him. At the moment he wanted nothing more than to hit something. How could anyone be so heartless as to hurt an innocent child? An orc was one thing, at least you knew they were heartless monsters, but this was an elf, one of the firstborn, one of the people of peace and light. How could an elf be so cruel? It was unthinkable.

Elladan silently vowed he'd teach that fiendish elf a lesson about harming defenseless children. One he wouldn't soon forget either.

If that was how all Mirkwood elves behaved then Elladan concluded he had his fill for a lifetime, and he'd be quite content if relations between their two kingdoms, Mirkwood and Rivendell, such fail.

He couldn't get the image of the frightened child from his mind. It was forever burned into his psyche like a scar, ever to haunt him. The boy's screams still rang in his ears perhaps to never escape, from the maze of his eardrum, always there echoing in his mind, tormenting him.

Elladan felt uncontrollable anger pulsing through every fiber of his being. He had never hated an elf so much, and he contended himself with images of how he would seek out vengeance on the spiteful elf that had so grievously harmed an innocent, disgracing the name of elf.

"Brother over here." Elhoir called out a bit ahead of him. "I think he went that way." The younger twin pointed to a clearly visible trail of crushed foliage, and more disturbingly blood droplets, easily creating a path to follow.

Elladan paused a moment, cocking his ear to the side, and was pleased to pick up the child's heavy breathing and ragged movements. The elf prince was certain they would be able to overtake the boy easily, though he did admit he was rather surprised how fast the child was moving, considering he was so gravely injured.

Elladan couldn't help, but feel a strange sense of pride for this brave child who must obviously be in a great deal of pain and yet continued to walk onward.

"Ro why don't we go on foot from here?" Elladan suggested as he eyed the tightly packed foliage. "The boy is not far off and the foliage is a bit dense here. It might be a bit rough on the horses to navigate. Besides if we go stampeding towards him we might just frighten the child further. After all the boy did almost get trampled a few moments ago."

"Alright Dan." Elhoir consented as he lithely slid from his horse, patting the faithful animal as he waited for Elladan to also dismount.

"I'll travel through the trees. It will be quicker and I'll be able to get ahead of him before he journeys too far. You can follow his trail so he doesn't double back and we'll trap him between us." Elhoir proposed.

"Very well brother." Elladan conquered. "I will see you soon. Do be careful. I'd hate to tell ada you were injured in a fatal tree accident. He'd probably think you did it on purpose and that I helped you or some such nonsense." Elladan replied deadpan, though a sparkle of amusement was clear in his eyes.

"You tell me to be careful? It I recall it was you that fell from the tree overlooking our balcony." Elhoir protested playfully, at his brother's overprotective nature.

Elladan blushed at the crude reminder. "We were scarcely elflings then and you were distracting me at the time." The elder twin tried to defend.

"Distracting you!" Elhoir answered aghast. "I was already on the ground acting as lookout. I didn't even realize you had fallen until I heard the crash. How could I possible have been distracting you?"

"We can argue about this all day. Elladan replied testily as he hastily tried to the change the subject. "But by the time we're finished the boy will either be half way to Gondor. Or the way things are going at the moment; he'll have most likely have nearly bleed to death. Or if the Valar has a particular nasty sense of humor perhaps he will throw in some orcs and wargs to keep us all entertained, seeing as the boy was foolish enough to run off alone into the forest a few hours before night fall."

Elhoir immediately sobered at his brother's unintentionally harsh words, and was drawn to the blood droplets painting the ground before them...a cruel reminder of the boy's fate.

A pained expression cross the younger twin's face, replacing the carefree fun loving facial cast he typically wore.

Elhoir envisioned, in his mind's eye, the young boy, lying broken and bleeding on the forest floor, slowly fading away, feeling lost, scared, and forgotten. Elhoir shuddered fiercely at the impromptu vision as his tender heart cracked at the heart wrenching images.

Elhoir's heart truly bled for the boy and he felt sure he would be hopelessly crushed if the boy should die. The younger twin couldn't explain it, but he felt connected to this child somehow. He had always believed strongly in the intertwining of fates, more so than his brother, and he felt destiny had perhaps meant for them to find this child...to protect it.

Elladan watched the sadness that filtered across his compassionate younger sibling's face, causing him to immediately regret his cruelly unthought words.

His brother had always had such a big heart. The suffering of others wounded him so terribly.... just like their mother. Elladan found his mind turning to his mother at that moment and was nearly overcome with the grief that accompanied the image. The Perendil family had lost her hardly a century ago and the memories were still so painfully raw....

"Forgive me brother." Elladan whispered mournfully as he squeezed Elhoir's shoulder in apology and comfort. "I did not think before I spoke. My words were cruel. Do not worry we shall find the boy in time this I promise you if it costs me my last breathe to achieve it." Elladan promised solemnly.

Elhoir smiled weakly in return. "I know brother...we have to." The younger twin's eyes glazed for a moment after this mysterious pronouncement as though he was far from this place, but just as quickly he returned to the present with a look of resolution. "Come we have wasted too much time already."

Elhoir smiled once more at his elder, squeezing his brother's shoulder in a return gesture of affection before lifting himself skillfully into the nearest tree. He quickly blended into it's leafy branches completely disappeared from Elladan's searching sight.

"Don't worry Dan. We'll save him. We won't fail him like mother." Elhoir whispered from the treetops before he headed off swiftly through the forest, not waiting for a reply.

"How does he always know what I'm thinking." Elladan mused. Because he's your twin. His brain readily supplied. "And he's right. We will find the boy. We won't fail him like we did mother. I'll make sure of that." Elladan spoke allowed to the empty clearing, not caring that anyone was there to hear his words.

Then the elder twin now filled with a renewed sense of determination also set off into the forest, intent upon saving the child who had stolen his heart, and Elladan didn't even know his name.

Estel felt the adrenaline wearing off, from his previous near death experience. Well his two near death experiences, he amended.

He suddenly experienced the urge to fall to the ground in a fit of hysterical laughter as panic began to creep into his psyche. It wasn't everyday you nearly got killed twice. And now after all that he was finally free. After all those failed escape attempts the one time he wasn't even trying to escape he succeeded. He was beginning to think the Valar might have a bit of a perverted sense of humor.

Estel's legs throbbed mercilessly as well as his shoulder, his wrists, and just about every other single inch of his body. How he longed to just rest. He didn't know how much longer he could go on. He was starting to feel dizzy again and he couldn't stop the trembles that periodically wracked his weary body.

Yet he dared not stop. Not yet. It wasn't that he was particularly worried about the elves following anymore. After all they could easily have caught up to him by now if they intended to. Their suprising absents seemed to indicate they had either forgotten about him and no longer cared for what became of him.

His greater concern, however, was the foul creatures that roamed these forests. He did not have survival skills, but his father had told him these forests were not safe at night. There were all kinds of unsavory creatures that wandered these woods when the sun faded, set to pounce upon the unsuspected traveler.

He cast a wary glance to the sky deciding it was certainly getting dark and here with the tree covering it would be getting dark even sooner. He probably had less than a few hours, at best, to find shelter. But he had no idea how to spot safe shelter.

So he continued wearily on hoping perhaps he might find a cave along the path or something of the soft if the Valar was willing. At least it wasn't raining anymore. Unfortunately the ground was still slick with mud making movement difficult nearly sending the injured boy tumbling to the ground on several occasions.

Some inexplicable instinct suddenly flared to life, causing Estel to jerk his head up and look frantically around for the cause of his unease.

Taking Estel quite by surprise, a blurry figure jumped from a tree, its knees bending as it impacted with the ground. As the lithe creature slowly rose Estel had an opportunity to see what had put his senses on high alert.

He gasped in surprise and unsettling fear as his eyes locked with none other that an elf!

On first appearance, the young boy couldn't be sure if it was indeed an elf or not. Perhaps his eyes were deceiving him. For the creature before him did not bear the pure golden strands of hair characteristic of elves, but rather his hair was brown like the fresh soil of the forest instead.

But the eyes gave the elf away. They were so terribly soulful that one could nearly get lost in their silver oceans much like his own silver storm clouds, though he didn't know it. But Elhoir did. The younger twin found himself instantly mesmerized and entranced by the boy's own cloudy silver oceans.... so calm and yet so stormy.

The two, elf and boy, stayed locked in a staring contest for several minutes; neither willing nor able to break this strangely powerful eye contact.

And then Elhoir forced himself with much resistance out of his trance state, shaking his head as though to clear it.

The only indication Estel had come out of his own entrancement was the slight widening of his eyes. The boy started to slowly back away, retreating from the unfamiliar elf.

Elhoir calmly followed the boy's retreating form with his eyes, but made no effort to retrieve the child. He respected, for the moment, the child's need for space. He was frightened. Elhoir could not say he would not feel the same if a stranger had jumped out right in front of him.

Estel cast one last suspicious look at the bizarrely serene elf, raising his own eyebrow in a startlingly similar impression of Lord Elrond's own famous "look". Perhaps what was most bizarre about this was the mere fact that Estel had never met Lord Elrond, to pick up such a habit.

After Estel decided he was far enough of a distance away from the unknown elf, he turned quickly and started heading in the direction from which he had just come.

Perhaps it was not the best plan. He didn't want to run into Firithgalad again if he could help it. But he had no intention of just standing there and letting that unfamiliar elf have him, and if the elf had no intention of following, which seemed likely at the moment, that was just fine too.

However Estel couldn't understand why? What was the elf's intention? Why had he come after Estel in the first place if he didn't want to recapture him? After all he certainly was no match for an elf in or out of his current injured state. The elf could have taken him easily enough, so why didn't he?

Estel was suddenly yanked from his thoughts as warning sensors again started going off in his brain. A movement appeared out of the corner of the boy's downcast eyes and he jerked them up, while at the same time trying to stop his own momentum from causing him to crash into what lay ahead. Whatever it was had come upon him without him even noticing, which did nothing to ease the boy's fears.

Estel reluctantly locked eyes with what was impending his path and couldn't stifle another gasp, this time not from surprise, but rather astonishment. It was the elf! Not just any elf, but the one he had just run into. How had he gotten ahead of him so quickly? Elves were fast, but surely not this fast?

Estel backed frantically away from the elf who didn't appear outwardly hostile, merely regarding him with curiosity.

But it didn't matter. He wasn't going to stay here. He had to get away. He couldn't fail now. He was much to close to give up...too close to freedom.

"Stay away...leave me alone." Estel choked out, trying to appear brave, but failing miserably as his own trembling body betrayed him. "Please just leave me alone." He finished a bit more meekly his strength failing him.

Elladan smiled in part amusement, part reassurance as he observed the boy. He was obviously trying to be brave and Elladan found he admired the child for it. The boy was obviously very weak and yet he continued to stand his ground upon an unknown and much more powerful enemy.

But the elder Perendil twin immediately sobered as he evaluated the boy's various injuries. It was amazing the child had managed to stay on his feet this long. The boy's face was flushed with fever and his eyes seemed slightly glazed with pain. The young one trembled visibly and yet still seemed wholly, even stubbornly, determined not to give into his weakness.

Elladan found his admiration only growing for the child before him. The elder twin was intrigued by the boy and hoped to have an opportunity to learn more about the child as a wave of protectiveness washed over him.

But now was not the time to examine such feelings. If the puddle of blood pooling at the boy's feet was any indication of the seriousness of the situation. The boy was fading quickly and needed help soon or he would indeed be visiting Mandos halls way before his time. And Elladan would do anything to see this didn't happen.

Elladan stepped confidently foreword as concern overruled common sense for the moment and he began to advance on the boy. Once he had positioned himself within reaching distance, the elder twin reached out his hand trying to still the boy's backward motion.

But all did not go quite as Elladan had planned or expected.

Estel spurred out of terror slashed out at the elder twin, without even thinking about what he was doing. After retreating from Firithgalad's clutches, it appeared the boy had managed to miraculously retain hold of his faithful rock weapon throughout his escape and was now making good use of the make shift weapon once more.

Elladan gasped in surprise as the sharp rock edge cut acrossed his forearm leaving a fair sized laceration in its wake, immediately producing a pool of blood upon his arm.

Elladan instinctively grasped hold of his wounded arm, holding tightly to stem the flow of blood. He gritted his teeth to hold back the screams of pain that wanted to break forth from his throat and instead contented himself with mumbling out a string of curses, that had Estel paralyzed in his own fear at the mere ferocity of the words.

"Now none of that brother." A voice chided, in elvish, before an identical elf appeared out of the tree expanse. "The boy did tell you to stay back, polite about it and everything." Elhoir laughed in amusement at his elder brother's predicament. "Besides it serves you right for charging the boy like that. He must have thought you were attacking...you'll have him frightened witless running around like an orc."

"I didn't charge him and I'm no orc." Elladan growled out defiantly. "I was just trying to help." He muttered in a slightly lighter tone as he saw the effect his words seemed to be having on the trembling boy before them.

"Yes brother, but you need to be more gentle. He was nearly killed moments ago. Why should he trust us or anyone for that matter?" Elhoir reasoned as he made his way to his brother's side.

Estel watched the two figures before him both engaged in some headed debate all in their own language. The boy's eyes widened as he took in the two identical forms and he rubbed at his eyes thinking he must surely not be seeing straight anymore. And yet as the child lowered his eyes the image of the two startling similar elves remained unchanged and the boy concluded he must surely be going mad. How could there be two of them? Exactly alike?

As the elf's conversation started to filter into young Estel's mind he felt annoyance starting to creep up on him. He was being talked about like he wasn't even there. It wasn't like as a slave and a child that hadn't happened more than enough already, but that didn't make it any less irritating, perhaps even more irritating now that he had started to get his mind around the idea he was free now and was to be treated as such.

Yet he swallowed the angry words that lay in his throat. He dared not say anything to garner their attention. Perhaps while they were so distracted amongst themselves he could slip away undetected.

After all he couldn't just remain here...not anymore. It was one thing to attempt escape or break a few vases, but quite another when it garnered injuring an elf. Attacking an elf was a death penalty in itself and probably a very slow and painful one at that. Estel certainly didn't have anything left to lose by attempting escape now...but perhaps he never really did.

Estel backed away slowly eyeing the two arguing elves warily as he continued his retreat. His hand still clenched protectively over the rock that had so far been the soul object to keep him from recapture. As he scuttled further back, starting to meld with the dark trees behind him, he chanced a quick look at his lifesaver.

The rock was ordinary by any standard, except for the bright red blood that coated and dripped precariously off its tip. Blood tinged with a tinge of silver, an indicator that it belonged to an elf rather than a human or other creature of middle earth.

Estel was stopped in his tracks as he gazed with horrified realization at his blood stained weapon. What had he done? Twice now in the span of an hour he had caused injury to two elves. He had never hurt anyone before, not even a small animal.

A drop of the elf blood slid down the rock settling against Estel's already too pale skin and he felt immediately nauseous.

He dropped the rock from instantly weak fingers creating a loud clunk as it collided with the ground, ignorantly giving away his location.

The two identical elves snapped their heads up at the noise, instantaneously locking eyes upon the quivering child.

Estel's knees seemed even wobblier then before and his vision was starting to blur. He couldn't keep standing up like this. He needed to rest...just rest for a bit. But no! He had to keep going...keep fighting. Estel shook his head resolutely trying to clear away the debilitating dizziness that clouded his mind and fed his despair.

He took a few more stumbling steps backwards, but was stopped from further advancement as his back pressed up against an immovable tree.

Estel felt himself sliding down the coarse bark before his mind even registered what was happening and soon found himself sitting on the forest floor leaning heavily against his tree support, breathing hard as weariness overtook him.

It was hopeless. He could run no more. His strength was gone. Estel felt despair creeping into his heart as each wave of hopelessness and helplessness washed over his fatigued frame. He couldn't even move his legs anymore. The boy had no more energy left. This day had been too much...

He had no more to give...no more will to fight.

Estel slowly, painfully forced his legs to curl up protectively in front of his chest and bowed his head exhaustedly upon them as he hung his head in defeat.

He silently prayed, to the Valar, to be merciful and make his death as quick and painless as possible. He had no illusions about why these elves were so persistent in finding him. They would take his life this day and his only hope was that they would spare him too much unnecessary pain and end it all quickly.

Elhoir and Elladan silently watched the frightened boy backing away from them, like a trapped animal, before it seemed his injuries had become too much and he was forced to rest, much to the child's obvious distress. The twins watched sadly, as the child's shoulders seemed to slump in despair, never knowing quite what dark thoughts invaded the innocent boy's mind. For if they had it perhaps would have been too horrifying for their own carefree spirits to bear and may very well have sent them to the undying lands far too early.

Elhoir satisfied that the boy wasn't going anywhere, for the moment at least, decided to first tend to his brother's injury and then he could begin to coax the frightened boy from his shell.

For even thought he boy looked so utterly lost, Elhoir had a feeling a fire lay dormant behind those silver orbs just waiting to be sparked to like should he be provoked.

The child was like a wild animal trapped and thus extremely unpredictable, as any elf in the same situation would be. And like a wild animal the boy was bidding his time, waiting for an opportunity for escape...a key instinct of survival.

Elhoir intended to be very cautious and patient with this young spirited child. He had no intention of being burned, bitten, or cut as the case may be, unlike a certain twin brother he knew.

The younger twin focused his attentions on his brother's bleeding arm, casting a quick experienced gaze on the cut satisfied it looked much worse than it actually was. Elladan always was a bleeder.

"I'm sorry brother, but all my healing supplies are with the horses, as I suspect yours are as well." At a confirmative nod from Elladan, the younger twin resignedly tore a strip of cloth from his own clock eyeing it was a rather forlorn expression.

"Another cloak you've cost me Dan. I fear if ada discovers I have destroyed another cloak he shall forbid me to have another for the next century or more." Elhoir sighed morosely.

"You think you have problems? This was my favorite robe and now look at it. It's utterly ruined. The sleeves all stained with blood. I'll never get that out. And this is my fourth robe this month. Once ada is done with us we may end up walking around with nothing but our underwear on." Elladan whined unhappily as his brother further torn the offending sleeve to better see to his injury.

"Until you find a way to ruin our underwear too." Elhoir mumbled under his breath. "I suppose the only reasonable solution is to make sure ada never finds out."

"Find out what?" Elrond asked as he made his way into the clearing, his approach undetected by his sons. His faithful horse, Naurhun (fire heart), trailed loyally after his friend, bearing the elf lord's healing bags.

Elrond had come upon the twin's discarded horses, but decided to bring Naurhun along to help him bear his burdensome medical supplies. He had a feeling he would be needing a lot and as he surveyed his apparently injured son he hated to admit he was right. Could those two never stay out of trouble?

"How is it that he always seems to show up right when we're trying to hide something from him?" Elhoir asked his brother.

"It looks like we better get us to walking around naked in the near future." Elladan replied morosely.

Elrond was tempted to ask what exactly they were trying to hide, but he decided it was best to remain in a blissful state of ignorance where his sons were involved.

He eyed Elladan's bound arm, wrapped up with a piece of dark gray cloak. No doubt Elhoir's. Another ruined cloak. Elrond sighed in exasperation. The seamstress would have a fit about having to make a new one. He was tempted to let his wayward sons run around naked for a few weeks. Perhaps they would learn to take better care of their clothes and themselves in the process.

"What happened to your arm?" Elrond asked, asking himself if he really wanted to know at this point.

Elhoir suddenly fell into a hysterical fit of laughter, seeming to barely be able to stay on his feet, while Elladan glared daggers at his manic twin, looking as though he had bitten into something a bit too sour.

"Oh ada...he...he...got himself...sta....stabbed." Elhoir managed to squeeze out through bouts of laughter.

"Stabbed? Why that's not funny at all Elhoir." Elrond replied in confusion at his youngest child's amusement as he eyed the surrounding forest warily. "Who stabbed you Elladan?" Elrond fingered the small knife still wedged carefully in the sleeves of his robe as he stood protectively in front of his sons.

"w....with a rock." Elhoir snorted continuing his rant as though he had heard nothing his father had just said. "By the...by the elf....elfing. Ha. Ha. An Elfling. Elladan got stabbed by an elfling."

"I think he gets it Elhoir." Elladan groused out crossly at his brother.

Elrond had tuned himself out to his son's bickering as he thought over what they had said.

Elfling? What elfling? Elrond was starting to become confused. The elf lord looked around the small clearing and finally caught site of the young edain child staring curiously and openly back at the new arrival. So this is the elfling? Elrond smiled in amusement.

Elrond returned the boy's stare and was quite surprised to see the child continue to hold his gaze evenly, thought it was certainly obvious the poor child was absolutely petrified of him. But after all the poor child had been though who could blame him?

Elfling indeed! His sons would be in for quite a surprise when they figured it out. Perhaps he should tell them? But it would be so much more fun to watch they discover things for themselves. Where do you think his sons got such a wicked sense of humor?

His sons had seen more than their fair share of humans, but this one did have an unmistakably elvish quality about him. It would have been easy for anyone at first glance to mistake the boy's heritage. Perhaps having grown up around Mirkwood elves for the past 8? 9? 10? Years had somehow contributed to the boy's inexplicable elvishness. Or perhaps it was something a bit more as well?

The boy was skinny and lithe like an elf...too much so for one of human stature. A human body was not made to bear such little weight. Their race needed more nourishment then those of the first born and it was readily apparent the boy was not getting this nourishment. The child was scarcely more than skin and bones...as though he was starving to death. And his skin was so pale....much too pale as though he hadn't seen sunlight in weeks or perhaps months.

The elf lord felt anger threatening to disrupt his cool composure as he looked upon this mistreated young child. How could anyone treat a child so poorly? What torments had the boy been through that his eyes could look so terrible old and so terrible sad? It pulled at the elf lords heart stings and he wanted nothing more than to take the child in his arm and confort him, but he suspected the young one would not appreciate the elf lord coming any closer at the moment.

Elrond decided to give the boy a few moments to get use to his presence before approaching and decided he would tend to his eldest son first, who would no doubt be the more willing patient.

As he turned to his son he was quite surprised and pleased to find his son was already at the task. The youngest twin had generously helped himself to his father's medical supplies and was in the process of re-bandaging Elladan's injured arm.

Elrond nodded his head in thanks for Elhoir's help, who nodded in turn indicating his father should see to the injured child.

"Be careful ada. The boy is like a wounded trapped animal....dangerous and unpredictable. It you get too close I fear he may strike out like he did with poor Elladan. Be wary of him...I would not see you injured as well." Elhoir replied worriedly.

"Do not worry my son. I shall be cautious. I will go speak to the boy, try to calm him a bit if I can. Perhaps assess his injuries if he will let me. When you are finished with your brother bring me my bags if you will."

"Of course ada." Elhoir replied as he returned to his work, while Elladan continued to keep a close on his father, lest he become endangered.

Estel look up as he heard a new voice enter the clearing. This new elf also bore the same dark brown hair as the boy's two identical assailants. He also bore a remarkable resemblance, but fortunately there were also obvious differences. If the elf had looked identical to the other two, Estel was sure it would have driven him utterly mad.

The elves seemed to know each other quite well and carried on a conversation in their strange form of elvish. Estel could tell quite easily that the new elf was in charge of the group...a leader of sorts.

Estel figured that he did look a bit older than the other two as well, which would make it only sensible he would be giving the orders. It was hard to tell an elf's age, for they all seemed eternally young, which for the most part was entirely true. Perhaps it was the grande sense of nobility that radiated off the older elf that made him seem so much older. Estel felt an undesirable sense of awe and reverence towards the strange elf and hated himself for it. These were his captors. He should hate them, not admire them.

The elf lord suddenly turned towards the boy as though sensing Estel's scrutiny.

The elf lord's eyes were an identical silver color like the other two elves and held the same soulfullness. And yet his eyes also told of unsurpassed wisdom worthy of the greatest minds of all middle earth, as well of as a compassion for life that spoke of great love and great hardship.

Estel experienced amazement at his own abilities to hold the elf lord's gaze for so long without flinching. The elf's gaze revealed a great power and inner strength that left Estel feeling weak. He was entranced and could not seem to pull his eyes away, lost in those mesmerizing eyes that appeared to be staring straight into his soul, leaving him feeling naked and vulnerable, but at the same time safe and protected in ways he could not explain.

Before the elf finally, mercifully, averted his own gaze, Estel caught a glint of something in the elf lord's eyes. Some unconcealed emotion...sadness? For whom? For me? Why would he feel sad for me? Perhaps he is upset about having to kill me? Maybe Firithgalad ordered him to or... Estel shuddered at the thought....perhaps the king.

Perchance, the boy thought hopefully, the elf will be beneficent and make it quick instead of torturing me more. His eyes aren't cold like Firithgalad. Please no more torture...no more pain The boy silently pleaded.

As the elf lord turned back to his companions, Estel lay gasping as though under the older elf's piercing gaze his lungs had been unable to function. He was utterly drained from staring the elf lord down. The boy laid his head weakly against his knees breathing in quick shallow breaths, tuning out the elf's talk.

He could easily have eavesdropped on the elf's conversation, for even though most of it was spoken in elvish he was quite fluent in the language, thanks to his mother's tutelage and his own natural abilities. It was a form of elvish he was not familiar with, which confused him slightly, but the gist was understandable enough. Many of the words were similar so he could detect the majority of what was being said.

However Estel tuned out the elf's banter preferring not to know what they had planned for him.

H let his mind drift to happier times when he was with his parents of nana, smiling or laughing, happy to be alive on those few rare precious occasions. How he longed to be with nana now, listening to her tell a story or sing a song like his mother use to. He wondered if she was well and prayed to the Valar that is beloved nana still lived. He hoped she would forgive him for getting himself killed. He had tried so hard to live...to escape, but he had failed just as she feared he would. He had failed her as much as himself and she would mourn his passing. He would cause her great pain and it hurt him terrible, for he was powerless to soothe her. Estel wished he could at least say goodbye...

He sat reliving all the happy memories of his childhood while his life slowly faded away from him, and wept for he knew he would never live to see another happy memory.

Elrond cautiously approached the wounded boy his sharp elven ears distinctly picking up the child's quiet sobs, muffled by his head being buried in his knees, as the human's breathe hitched sporadically nsync with the boy's trembling body.

Elrond's heart broke to see the child so utterly desolate and the elf lord wanted nothing more than to hold the boy, wiping away the hopeless tears, while offering a much needed sense of security, comfort, and love.

Elrond placed his hand gently on the boy's shoulder hoping perhaps a friendly touch would ease the boy's tearful heart, but unfortunately the contact had the directly opposite effect.

Estel flinched as he felt the light pressure applied to his shoulder as though he had been scalded. The boy trembled even more as full-blown sobs were pulled from his wracked hurting body. He felt overwhelming shame pulling him deeper into despair as he was powerless to stop the cruel debilitating tears from falling from his ears, showing his weakness and fear. Pride and hope were all he had left and both seemed to fall away like sand through his fingers leaving him broken.

"Please...please don't hurt me." Estel whispered brokenly through his tears, nearly so quiet Elrond barely caught the silent plea for mercy.

Elrond felt his own set of tears burning his stubborn eyes, at the child's heartbroken words, wounding more deeply than any blade ever could.

"Do not be afraid young one." Elrond gently lifted the boy's chin so he could lock eyes with the boy's cloudy gray. "I promise you so long as I am here you will be safe."

The boy seemed reluctant to believe him, but silenced his tears staring at the elf lord with wary apprehension.

"Here ada...here are your supplies." Elhoir replied breaking the silent tension between elf lord and human.

Estel jerked his head up as the younger elf's words were processed in the young boy's mind and gut wrenching realizations became known.

Ada....father. Ada meant father. The two identical looking elves must be the older one's sons that meant. Estel felt his heart rate increasing sporadically and his breathe became more choppy as the edges of panic started to take him over once more.

There would be no mercy for him here. No father would allow one who had injured their child to come away unscathed. The older elf would not give him a painless death and now he would suffer more. He should never have ran, never have lashed out at the strange elf, if it had been accidental or not, for now his end would be far worse. And for what? Some futile hope for freedom. There was no hope.

Estel buried his face in his knees to fight back the stinging tears that demanded realize from already swollen eyes. He had finally stopped crying, and now all he wanted was his tears back to cry all over again. He no longer cared if it was shameful to display such weakness. He had no pride left. He was stripped of all hope...all happiness. Only despair remained.

"Please...please." Estel mumbled from his crouched position as he rocked slightly back in forth chanting over and over the single word.

"What is wrong with him ada." Elhoir backed away slightly in startled concern. "He was so calm but a moment ago. Has my presence upset him so much?"

"I do not know." Elrond sighed wearily. He had thought he had finally gotten through to the boy, assured him of their good intent. It was a hard concept to understand a child being so distrustful and the elf lord found himself deeply saddened.

What had the poor boy endured in his young life that he would see an offer of help as a potential threat?

"Please....I didn't mean to hurt him. I...it was an accident." Estel whimpered helplessly. "Have mercy. I beg of you...make it qu...quick."

Elhoir crinkled his forehead in confusion at the strange words.

Elladan also reflected a similar confusion as he caught the tail end of the boy's diatribe having joined his family when it seemed no progress was being made.

"What is he talking about Ada?" Elladan asked as he stared with open curiosity at the distraught child. "Who didn't he mean to hurt? And make what quick?"

Elhoir turned to gawk at his brother with ill-concealed annoyance. "What do you mean what did he mean who didn't he mean to hurt?" Elhoir asked with absolutely disbelief clear of his voice.

"Could you make that sentence anymore confusion Roe. I think with a few thousand years that Gandalf might still be able to decipher it." Elladan taunted.

"You know what I mean Elladan. Quit changing the subject. It's obvious he was referring to you." Elhoir replied exasperated.

"How do you know he isn't referring to that other elf...he did slash him on the face after all. He only knicked me arm." Elladan protested.

"Nicked! I did not realize a nick entailed so much blood." Elhoir flabbergasted. "Dan how can you possible be so dense? Perhaps ada dropped you on your head as a baby. That elf shot the boy, twice might I add. I don't think at this point the child is going to feel remorseful about the damage upon him at the moment."

"Enough both of you." Elrond commanded becoming quite fed up with his son's quarreling. "We have more important maters to attend to at the moment."

Elrond turned his attention back to the boy, gently lifting the young one's chin up.

"Make what quick young one." Elrond asked with sincere curiosity trying to understand the boy.

"M...my death. Please make it quick. I have no wish to suffer anymore. No more torture.... I beg of you." Estel replied earnestly no longer caring if he begged. He had no pride left. He only wanted it to end. He could feel his life ebbing away already and just wanted the pain to stop.

Elhoir and Elladan both gasped in shock at the boy's admission. The twin siblings stared wide-eyed at each other looking for answers, trying to understand how one o young could ask such a think....beg for such a thing....think of such a thing.

The two younger elves turned to their father hoping he could explain such a mind-boggling concept, but Lord Elrond himself was baffled by such a request.

The elf lord sat paralyzed, overcome by silent horror at the child's heart wrenching words.

Estel, taking the elves silent stares as refusal, jerked his head from the elf lord's grasp, handing his head in shame.

He had forsaken his pride for nothing...

Elrond snapped out of his daze as the boy jerked away from his touch pulling him back to reality. As the elf lord looked into the boy's two stormy gray eyes, for but a brief moment, he was given a glimpse of a soul unbarred. He looked upon such unrestrained agony...such long-held pain that the Elrond's breath was momentarily halted in mid-inhalation.

Without a second though Elrond gathered the boy into his arms, pouring all his love into the simple embrace.

At first, Estel fought desperately against the elf lord's hold---Frightened and left uncertain by this strange rare act of compassionate that he though it some cruel trick. But young Estel was far too weak to effectively offer much resistance and soon ended his useless struggles graciously accepting the elf lord's love like a dehydrated man to water.

"I promise you young one by all that is good and pure, I will never lay a hand against you. I will protect you and keep you safe if it is in my power to do so. You have nothing to fear from me or my son's." Elrond whispered soothingly as he gently rocked the boy in his arms.

"Ada is right young one. We will never harm you. We are nothing like the elf from the clearing. We do not harm the innocent. We do not seek you life." Elhoir implored, nearly begging the child to see the truth of his words.

"Yes we wish only to help you. No one should treat another as that elf has and he shall be punished. This I promise you." Elladan added.

One way or another he will receive justice...even if I have to give it to him myself Elladan silently vowed as he watched the frightened child.

Estel nodded his head slightly into Elrond's chest willing to accept the elves promises for now...wanting nothing more than to believe their kind words...so eager to hold onto the wisps of hope before him.

Elrond ended the embrace holding the child at arms length, smiling as he saw a bit of light shining in the boy's eyes...those gray clouds slowly starting to part and let the sun through.

"May I tend your wounds now young one?" Elrond requested patiently.

Estel simple nodded his head, words escaping him at the compassion he saw upon the elves faces...each willing to offer him love and protection without reservation. It felt wonderful to be loved so freely even if it couldn't last. No good thing ever did.

Estel leaned back once more against a tree regaining his waning strength as he silently watched the elder elf pull different items from his bag; herb jars, a water flask, some bandages, and finally a small surgical knife.

Lord Elrond displayed each item on the ground beside him, within easy reach before at last selecting the small surgical knife from his assorted goods.

He turned back to the young child gently reaching for the boy's already tattered shirt causing young Estel to flinch away...his eyes firmly locked on the small knife glinting eerily in the dying sunlight.

"You...you said you wouldn't hurt me." Estel whispered meekly, as distrust and fear began to erode away his new found calm.

Elrond looked quickly from the child following his gaze to the tool in the elf lord's hand and offered a hasty reassurance. "Forgive me child...I was being thoughtless. I should have explained myself. I merely intend to cut your clothes away so that I may remove the arrow from your shoulder. It will not hurt. I will be gentle." The elf lord soothed slightly easing the boy's tense posture. "Is that alright?"

"No pl...please don't. I'll get in tr...trouble if I damage a piece of clothing. It's aga...against the rules." Estel implored to worn out to contemplate that his clothing at this point was already beyond repair or rescue.

"I shall take full responsibility." Elrond answered gallantly. "You will not be in trouble, I assure you. All will be well." As the boy relaxed further Elrond reached out to cut the shirt away once again, but Estel weakly gripped the elf lord's wrist halting further motion.

"I d...don't want you to get into tro...trouble either." Estel rasped out.

Elrond smiled at the child's selflessness. It was truly touching gesture that

"You needed worry young one. I will not be in trouble either. I am a guest in this fair kingdom, which in and of itself given me diplomatic immunity, and secondly this is a unique situation. I'm sure the elves of Mirkwood surly wouldn't begrudge you one pair of clothes to save your life." Elrond answered good naturally as he smoothly detached the boy's hand and proceeded to gently cut away the blooded tatters of clothing.

"I don't know about that." Elladan muttered darkly under his breath, to his brother. Thus far the Mirkwood elves didn't seem to be the most compassionate of creatures.

Elhoir simply nodded his head at his brother's comment, a similar dark look marring his features, indicating he too was thinking the same thing.

At his father's bidding Elhoir positioned himself gently behind the boy and helped slip the boy's now ruined piece of clothing off his good arm before working on the weaker arm.

Noticing the boy's slight shivers Elrond called his eldest son, whom at the moment was standing quietly in the background knowing his injured arm would make him of little help at the moment. "Elladan will you please go retrieve a blanket from my horse. I should have one stuffed in my saddle bag somewhere."

"Of course Ada." Elladan acquiesced pleased to have some task to perform, which of course was part of Elrond's intention for asking him. Elrond knew how important it was for his compassionate children to feel like they were doing something to help. They were not the type to be content with discussion and planning, but preferred action.

Estel watched through bleary eyes as Elrond communed with his sons, only catching a few words here in there through the his foggy mind as his injuries started pulling him towards sweet oblivious unconsciousness. It was only sheer determination that kept the young boy conscious still, for he still did not yet entirely trust these unknown elves.

Estel watched with a strange sense of detached interest as Elrond gently lifted the second half of shirt off his body, knife posed to smoothly cut the remaining shreds of fabric away from the arrow wound.

But Elrond halted in his task as he briefly glimpsed a strange discoloration on the boy's chest. The elf lord pulled the ripped piece of shirt further away squinting his eyes slightly at the strangely made discoloration. It was a pale ivory white color nearly identical to the boy's flesh. Only if one was looking for it, or one with keen eyes could have made out such a marking. And it seemed to form a shape...like a tree....a white tree!

"No it couldn't be." Elrond backed away slightly in astonishment. "Only one could bear such a mark."

"What is it ada? What mark? What are you talking about?" Elhoir asked curiously, unable to see what drew his father's attention as he held the young boy trying to offer the poor child as much warmth and comfort as possible.

Estel seemed to snap out of his dazed state, perhaps a mechanism of self-preservation, as a warning signal rippled up his spine pulling him back to full alertness. Something was not right!

Estel forced his unsteady eyes to focus on what was happening around him and caught the elder elf kneeling in front of him silently staring.

What is he looking at? Estel wondered. He followed the elf lord's gaze to his chest and gasped as realization hit him. His mark was revealed.

The human grabbed his scrap of shirt out of the elf lord's unsuspecting grip, and with a renewed sense of vigor clumsily recovered the strange birthmark.

"It is nothing." Estel answered hastily to Elrond's inquiring gaze. "Just an old scar. I...I was burned as a child. It never fully healed."

Elhoir seemed complacent was the child's explanation and simply nodded in understanding.

However Elrond was not so easily convinced. That was no scar. The elf lord had seen enough in his days to know the difference between a scar and a birthmark. And this child bore a birthmark. He would bet his entire kingdom on it. And not just any birthmark, but one handed down through the generations of the boy's forefathers. It was the symbol of Gondor...the white tree of Gondor to be more precise. And only the land's heirs could bear the mark and would bear the mark from the day of their birth to the day of their final rest.

Before him lay the heir of Gondor...Isuldur's long lost descendent.

But how much did the boy know about his own heritage? He seemed to understand the importance of keeping the mark hidden, but did he know what it stood for? It's importance? Who he was even?

"Do you know what that mark symbolizes?" Elrond asked the boy point blank, hoping to put him off his guard.

"I...I don't know what you're talking about. It's just a scar." Estel quickly denied, panic dancing in his eyes.

"Nay young one. That is no scar. I am a trained healer and have seen many a wound in my lifetime. And that is no scar, as well you know. That is a birthmark." Elrond eyed the boy in a calculating manner, seeing how the child would react to such a forthright answer.

The boy tensed under the elf lord's searching stare, but after a few minutes of tense silence, allowed himself to relax heavily against Elhoir, too tired to negate the elf lord's accusation.

"Please don't tell anyone. They will hu...hurt me if they find out. It's suppose to be a se...secret." Estel cast imploring eyes upon Lord Elrond, begging him to protect the child's identity. For divulging such a secret would cost the boy his life.

How could anyone resist a look like that? Elrond mused. He must give his parents quite a handful.

Elrond looked foreword to meeting the boy's parents as he came to discover this must be Arathorn's son. The elf lord had always wondered where the ranger king had ended up all those years ago when he had went missing. It has always been assumed that the head of the rangers had been killed by orcs or some other foul creature. And thus the line of Isuldur had been thought ended, for at the time of Arathorn's disappearance he had pledged himself to no other and had yet to bear offspring.

It was truly a blessing from the Valar himself that Arathorn had managed to survive a life of slavery, in Mirkwood no less. It was quite obvious that there was no lost love between King Thranduil and the heir's of Isuldur.

It was fortunate that most of middle earth believed Isuldur's line had died out long ago, for if the king had ever suspected this line of kings still lived he would have went to great lengths to see it broken. And if he had found that which he despised the most Elrond shuddered to think what vengeance the elf king would have reaped.

Because Arathorn had born an offspring though was a telling sign that Thranduil knew nothing of this ranger's identity and merely enslaved him like so many other humans. If the king had known this young boy and his family would have all been executed.

"Ada what is going on what is it you are speaking of. I do not understand what is going on?" Elhoir gazed at his father curiously as he watched the strange conversation between human and elf lord.

Elrond cast a wary eye over the young trembling human boy and saw how injuries, anxiety, and excessive blood loss had taken a hazardous toll upon the young boy's mind and body.

"Now is not the time my son. This young one needs our help desperately. I fear his life is fading." Elrond answered allowing healer mode to make his answers blunt and his resolve firm. They must see to the child first before they did anything else or all would soon be for naught.

Estel begin to chatter his teeth slightly as cold seemed into his bones.

Elrond cast the boy one final assessing glance before turning to his tools, measuring out some strange herbs that he then poured generously into a canteen, filled with water no doubt.

Estel grasped weakly at the elf lord's hand, halting his tedious movements.

Elrond turned towards the quivering boy, raising an eyebrow in silent question, unable to keep the worry from shining in his eyes. The boy was fading fast. So little time was left.

"So....so cold." Estel rasped out fighting the darkness leaking into his vision. "Am I...am I going to d...die?" The young boy whispered fear leaking from his voice, while tears of pain and fear danced in his eyes.

"No child. By all that is good and pure upon this earth....by the Valar himself I promise you will breathe to see the morrow." Elrond answered in all sincerity.

The elf lord nodded to Elhoir, indicating the younger elf should slightly lift the boy up and then Elrond placed the canteen gently against the boy's lips.

Estel sniffed a strange odor lingering from the canteen and instinctively turned his head away, refusing to drink the strange concoction.

"Come young one." Elrond insisted sternly. "You must drink so I may tend to your wounds. It will ease your pain and help you rest so your body may grow stronger."

"No...no." Estel whimpered panic rising in his voice as he frantically avoided the insistent canteen.

"Come, why will you not drink?" Elhoir asked as he rubbed the boy comfortingly. "It will help you."

"It is...it is poison." Estel cast gleaming eyes at the elf lord, filled with accusation and fear. "If you intend to poison me than please just tell me. If I am to die, I have the right to know." Estel demanded as a sense of betrayal made him momentarily forgo his fear for bitter hurt.

As the gut wrenching accusation burned in the air silencing the elves and human alike a low hysterical laugh broke out behind the still figures.

Elladan walked up to the silent group bearing a handful of blankets, laughing heartily at the boy's defiant words.

"Oh Ada. It seems the reputation of your tea precedes you." Elladan chuckled merrily, pleased for once to not be on the receiving in of the foul liquid.

Elhoir did not join in brothers's merriment, but did offer a weak smile as he remembered their own many experiences with the unpleasant drink.

"Small one you have nothing more to fear from ada's little concoction than a bad aftertaste in your mouth and some much needed rest. My brother and I have had this particular elixir forced down out throats on more than one occasion...perhaps more than was needed in my opinion." Elladan teased easing the mounting tensions.

Elrond wagged his eyebrow back at his chortling offspring, a look of displeasure making the elf lord look as though he had swallowed something sour. "If I recall broken bones and arrow wounds have always called for some much needed rest. Perhaps it is not that you have had more than was needed, but rather you have both gotten yourself far more injured than was ever needed, more than any elf your age has want to. Perhaps if my tea tastes so awful you should refrain from injuring yourselves so often. I have enough gray hairs on your accounts as it is my two reckless sons." Elrond answered with a glint of light amusement in his eyes mixed with fatherly worry.

Estel smiled wanly at the elf's playful banter. In Mirkwood such displays of affection were rare among the elves, considered undignified to display so openly and even his fellow human slave's lacked such playful affection. Slavery with or without chains tended to leave a person seem empty.

Estel felt a secret longing building up inside, reminding him how very lonely he was and how very alone.

Perhaps the elves sensed the boy's disheartenment for Elhoir gripped Estel gently and lord Elrond turned to the boy with a fatherly look of love and acceptance.

Estel sucked up this offered inclusion like a man of the desert to water and felt his sense of hope spark as the love strengthened him, and his fear eased though he still bore a weary apprehension.

Lord Elrond reflected the boy's precious smile hoping to dissuade the child's fright.

The elf lord tentatively offered the canteen again raising a questioning eyebrow. He would not force the tea on the boy and break the fragile trust he was starting to develop.

At Estel's hesitation Lord Elrond added, "I promise you the tea has no ill-effects except perhaps as my sons have pointed out a slightly unpleasant after taste. I ask your trust. I swear to you I will not let any harm come to you."

Estel felt the sincerity in the elf lord's words and found himself trusting and believing the elder elf. There was something so terribly open and honest in the words and the elf lord's eyes shone so imploring Estel was certain the elf lord truly did care about him. They all did. He felt safe here among these strange elves, for reasons he could not explain. He had not felt such comfort in so very long and embraced it whole-heartedly.

Estel nodded his head slightly accepting the elf lord's words and the unpleasant concoction.

The young human gripped the elf lord's arm like he was the child's very life line as the elf lord gently poured the cold healing drink down the boy's parched throat.

Estel could not prevent a look of disgust from crossing his face as he registered the taste, which seemed to highly amuse the two younger elves.

After only a few moments Estel started to immediately feel the effects as drowsiness started to cloud the corners of his vision.

He leaned deeper into Elhoir's embrace accepting the added warmth, comfort, and reassurance the strong elven arms offered.

Estel leaned his head against the youngest elf's shoulder at the elf's gentle invitation and felt tears string the corners of his eyes at such whole-hearted and unexpected kindness.

"Tha...thank you." Estel whispered out between numbing lips as he embraced the healing darkness.

Elhoir gripped the young boy tightly and leaned down slightly to catch the softly spoken words upon the breeze.

"What did he say?" Elladan asked curiously as he stared openly at the sleeping youth.

"He said "thank you," Elhoir offered simply refusing to remove his eyes from the sleeping form, as though taking his promise as protector quite seriously.

All three elves remained in contemplative silence as the tended to the wounded child's wounds. Each elf was lost in their own thoughts trying to understand this small miracle that had come into their lives, this strange child that they immediately loved without restraint.

All elves bear a compassionate nature, and are innately pained by the suffering of any creature, but this care went much deeper. It was not just the detached affection for life, but an unbreakable bond between them. The boy seemed a part of them.

Elrond was astonished at the various wounds and injuries he came upon as he diligently worked. Not only did the child have two arrow wounds with accompanying blood loss; he had an infected wound upon his leg, a broken wrist, and more cuts and bruises in various stages of healing that little skin could be considered healthy.

The elf lord was amazed at the boy's stamina. With these injuries the boy should have been unconscious and probably even dead before now. It was pure determination that had kept the boy going and Lord Elrond found himself admiring the boy's strength and spirit. Someday he would make a good king of this lord Elrond was certain.

Elladan offered his twin a blanket and the youngest twin wrapped up the young boy tightly before gently lifting him in his arms.

No words needed to be spoken between the close nit family. They had did all they could here, they needed to get somewhere where they could better tend the child's wounds. And the closest place was Mirkwood palace, even if they all were loath to go there now.

Elrond accepted the frail-sleeping boy into his arms as Elhoir helped his brother to mount.

Estel stirred in his sleep curling tightly into the elf lord's chest with an absolute sense of trust that belabored the boy's wakeful distrust.

Elrond felt a full-blown smile erupt across his face at the boy's gesture.

"I will see you safe heir of Isuldur." Elrond whispered. "You will not be harmed again of this I vow by the blood in my veins. This is my promise and my pledge."

Estel smiled in his dreams, perhaps on some level hearing the elf lord's promise and then snuggled deeper into the elf lord's arms.

Elhoir quickly mounted his own steed and offered to take the young boy.

Elrond steadily offered the young boy up into Elhoir's waiting arms and the younger elf settled the sleeping child snuggly against his shoulder before spurring his horse on towards Mirkwood, fully expecting his father to follow.

Elrond gracefully mounted his own horse and with a slight tap of his legs against the horses flank sent the faithful creature following the retreating horses.

As the elf lord came upon the palace gates rising in the distance he couldn't help the rising apprehension. He wondered if it was the lamb walking into the lion's den, or in this case riding into the lion's den.

The elf lord saw his sons unconsciously going ridged in their seats as the palace came into view. Elhoir held the boy protectively to his chest daring any to come to close at the risk of a blade in their chests.

Nobility seemed to ooze from his sons on this rare occasion. Where the twins were notorious pranksters and miscreants they looked every bit the royalty they were at the moment. The princes of Imadalis in every way.

No not lambs walking into the lions den, these were tigers. Elrond thought with pride. And they were coming in with claws barred.

**Authors Note: (Author hides behind Legolas and Aragorn) Okay okay I know you were expecting Legolas to be the hero and save the day. He was, but then he had a hair appointment come up, he couldn't just cancel he's had this scheduled for months...lol. Don't worry I'm not neglecting Legolas. He'll be saving the day soon enough. Just give it some time. **

I apologize for not responding to my reviewers this time. You have all been absolutely wonderful and I can't think you enough for all the wonderful responses I've received. I couldn't write without your encouragement. I'm a very self-conscious writer and it means the world to me when I see that my writing has some meaning. I will make sure to add the reviews I haven't responded to yet at the end of my next post so all of you faithful readers look for those next time. And thanks again for being so awesome.


	5. Chapter Four: Don't you Know I love you?

A/N: Hey everyone. Here is the next installment of the story. I'm sorry for all of you Estel lovers that this is so Legol-o-centric I promise you the Estel will make an appearance in the next chapter. If he's going to be conscious is yet to be seen…(evil laugh). I was going to make this chapter longer, but I figured this was a good stoping place and that also means the beginning of the next chapter is already written. I hope to have that next chapter out by the end of the month, but we know how that goes…

I hope this lives up to expectations and I'm sorry if it disappoints. I had a lot of problems making this an exciting chapter, but I hope I've improved that with editing.

I like this chapter because it's a really good scene between Legolas and his father, which so many fanfic stories never really do a lot of thranduil/legolas exploration. So I hope that you enjoy it.

Chapter Four: Don't you Know I Love You?

"And those confounded dwarves have been seen wandering in our territories again. I intend to send a force within the week to see the miscreants properly dealt wi…Legolas…Legolas are you listening to me?" King Thranduil asked irritably, noticing the far away look in his son's eyes.

The boy was day dreaming again. He was too much of a wild spirit, never content in his princely duties. And it irritated Thranduil to no end. Legolas had obligations, responsibilities. He was a prince for Valar's sake. He had no time for these idle musings. If Legolas was ever to become king one day, the boy would have to get rid of this foolish idealism he had.

Legolas was drawn from his thoughts at his father's unexpected change in tone. He blinked his eyes a few times as though waking from a dream before focusing reluctantly on the distraught king.

"Forgive me ada. My mind was… elsewhere." The prince's cheeks flushed slightly pink, at being caught wandering again. He just couldn't seem to get his mind off that strange human boy, Estel. There was something special about this mortal child and Legolas was intent upon discovering his secrets.

The king jumped frustrated from his chair, and began pacing erratically back and forth about the room, waving his arms about in a jumbled motion. At the moment he looked quite mad.

"Your thoughts are always elsewhere Legolas. When will you get your mind out of the trees and start acting like a prince instead of some dreamy eyed youth. What if my advisors had seen you in such a state, or worse yet our subjects? You must have a sharp mind about you to deal with the problems of our kingdom. Such inattentive behavior could very easily cause our people to loose faith in your abilities as a ruler. I am most disappointed in your behavior Legolas. I had thought you had finally out grown such childish fancies." Thranduil ranted angrily as his temper got the best of him.

"Oh Valar, what have I done to deserve a child such as this." Thranduil stopped pacing and raised his hands imploringly up at the ceiling, as though waiting for a response that was not forth coming.

Legolas sat tensed in his chair as he followed his father's ranting with wide frightened eyes, while the king roamed around the room like some angry hornet set to sting anything in its path. The prince dared not move and scarcely breathed; afeared he should bring his fathers full fury upon him should he garner the king's attention.

The elf prince felt his cheeks burn with shame at his fathers scalding reprimand. And he could not prevent a slight tremble from shaking his wiry frame, as he waited to see what his fate might be. Thranduil had never harmed him before, physically at least. Legolas wandered if he had perhaps pushed the king too far this time though.

Thranduil was well known for his temper, but he rarely got so angry at Legolas. The king's fury was most often reserved for threats against Mirkwood…. And none of those were in any state to tell about it.

"P…please forgive me my lord." Legolas stammered uncertainly, breaking the tense silence that ensued his father's rage. "I do not…do not mean to dishonor you. I accept whatever punishment you deem fit for my unworthy behavior."

The king's anger dissipated as he saw the apologetic look on his young son's face. The boy looked too much like his mother. No one could stay mad at the child for long. Legolas had a good heart. He just never seemed to stay to the task at hand.

"Oh Legolas." Sighed Thranduil in exasperation. "What ever am I to do with you?"

Legolas dropped his eyes in shame.

He was such a disappointment.

"I…I don't know father." The prince quietly whispered as he hung his head in abashed submission.

Legolas kept threatening tears at bay. It was not proper for a prince to cry. He would not shame himself further by starting now.

Thranduil, in an act of fatherly love, laid his hand on his son's stooped shoulders, trying to instill a sense of comfort, for his unintentionally harsh words. The prince flinched slightly at the unexpected contact.

The move, though slightly unsettling to the king, only made the kings grip tighten further on the youthful shoulder.

He couldn't let Legolas pull away now. Since Legolas' mother had died the prince had distanced himself from the king…they had both pulled away. Each day was a reminder of the brimming gap between father and son. Thranduil could not bear to let the gap expand any further. The king feared he would lose his son in the darkness between them…and nothing frightened him more.

It was obvious the boy was afraid of him.

What had he done wrong that his own son should fear him so? Was he too cold or unintentionally cruel? He had never hit the child so why did Legolas flinch from him as though expecting a beating, like a cowering slave awaiting discipline.

King Thranduil knew he was a hard lord to please, and perhaps even a harder father, because he expected so much of his only child. To a soft hearted elf such as Legolas, his tough words could often be wounding when they were not intended to be. Thranduil only wanted the boy to finally achieve the potential he was certain the boy was capable of, to become the great prince the Valar had ordained him to be.

"My Legolas do you not know I love you?" Thanduil asked in a more gentle tone, as he stooped in front of the distraught young prince. He lifted his son's downcast chin up. "I would never harm you. Why do you tremble at my touch? You have nothing to fear from me, my son. You are the son of my blood and my heart. To hurt your would be to stick a knife through my own chest." Thranduil emphasized his own words by firmly placing Legolas' hand against the elf king's rhythmically pulsing chest.

Legolas offered a tentative smile as he felt the miracle of life rippling beneath his fingertips. "I know ada. I know you love me and I promise you I will do better." Legolas replied solemnly.

"I know you will my son." Thanduil nodded once, as though he had no doubts in his child's ability to make good on that promise, before quickly rising. A king should never be on their knees, it made them seem weak.

He turned his back to his son, overcome with such uncontrollable emotion that he felt it difficult to breathe. Thranduil stared out the window collecting his thoughts back into some semblance of order, as he locked his feelings tightly back away where they belonged. It was unbecoming for a king to show too much emotion. It made him look weak.

Thranduil's face hardening back into a stern visage of a great and powerful, though somewhat aloof king, before he could bring himself to face Legolas once more, never realizing how his action of closing himself off deeply wounded the young prince. It was like healing a wound, only to open it again and start rubbing salt in it.

Legolas had been emotionally deprived for so long now that it was physically painful to have such long sought after affection removed so abruptly once more, leaving a cold empty hole in Legolas' soul.

It was like the pleasant tingle of a warm fire on your skin before the door was slammed in your face leaving you out in the freezing snow of winter, a cruel taunt more than a briefly cherished gift.

Legolas knew that his father loved him, but knowing and seeing things were two different matters entirely. One was based on faith and the other on fact, and one only had so much faith to go around before one started to lose it.

" Now back to the matter at hand." Thranduil said gruffly, quickly directing the conversation away from this unfamiliar territory of emotions, completely oblivious to the fresh wounds he opened up with his callousness. "What are we going to do about these dwarves wandering about? Perhaps you could lead a troop to see they are taken care of Legolas? I should think a few picked dwarf heads placed around the perimeter of the forest should do the trick."

"If you wish father." Legolas replied morosely, as he fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair.

"If I wish? Legolas, my son, what ever has come over you today? You've been so morose lately. Where is your enthusiasm? There was a time when I couldn't hold you back from a dwarf hunt. Now you look as though I've just ordered your execution."

"It's just that…well." Legolas eyed his father uncertainly, as though expecting his father to bite his head off at any moment.

"Out with it. A prince always knows what he means to say. You can't fluster your words or your subjects will think you a fool."

"Or course father, forgive me." Legolas bowed his head in supplication.

"And stop all this blasted apologizing." Thranduil scoffed. "Princes don't apologize. You mean what you say and you do exactly what you mean. Our people expect their rulers to be confident in our every word and action."

Legolas nodded his head in acquiesce, but a small frown edged his face, hidden beneath the golden locks blocking his discontent from King Thranduil.

Yet another reminded, from his father, that he was expected to be perfect.

Sometimes it seemed meeting his ada's expectations could be staggering, but Legolas would not fail his father again even if it killed him in the process.

"Do you plan on telling me the reason you are so hesitant to lead a troop of highly skilled elven warriors against the dwarves invading our forest or shall you leave me in further suspense for the remainder of the evening?" Thranduil demanded impatiently, forcibly keeping Legolas' wandering mind on the task at hand.

"Father I do not doubt the skill of our warriors. I believe any of them capable of such a feat." Legolas replied quickly hoping to appease his father's temper.

"Then what?" Thranduil pressed unwilling to be so easily pacified. "Why are you inclined to shirk your duties to your people? "What is it about my request that abhors you so?"

Legolas flinched as though verbally slapped by his father's accusing words.

The prince had a denial on the tip of his tongue, but he forcibly stilled the urge to defend himself. He had no wish to further argue with his father, and his honor was not the issue. There were matters of more important precedence that needed to be discussed.

"My lord I have no wish to harm these dwarves. They have caused us no harm. They avoid our people at all costs, and have shown no inclination to stay within our forests longer than necessary. The winter was harsh and I am certain they are only entering our woods out of desperation for game, to refill their own dwindling stores. I see no reason for bloodshed when they only seek to feed their families. We would do no less for our own." Legolas replied with utmost conviction.

He may have no love for dwarves, but he could not rationalize taking their lives when they were only trying to survive. Perhaps there was a time in his thoughtless youth when such senseless carnage would drive him with blood lusting pleasure, but he was no longer that same ignorant youth. Even the fiercest enemy was worthy of compassion at times.

Legolas had been watching these encroaching dwarves for some time now. They looked more haggard than he could remember of old, with a gnawing look in their eyes Legolas had come to associate with hunger. The stout creatures walked around in garments riddled with rips and tears that indicated long use and their weapons appeared rusted and old.

The dwarves, who were an undoubtedly proud race, arrogantly so at times, now walked the forests with stooped shoulders, despair clearly displayed in their desperate actions. Dwarves simply did not enter the forests of Mirkwood. It had been so for centuries and Legolas saw no reason why they should start now unless great need drove them to it.

The elf prince was loathe to admit it, but he felt with an inexplicable certainty that Sauron had some hand in this cold winter and the lack of game that accompanied it, perhaps hoping to initiate such a conflict between the two races. One that might leave both races so focused upon their own petty disputes that the true evil might remain unopposed until it was too late.

If only Legolas could make his father see. Thranduil in his pride would prefer to focus his attention on a few harmless dwarves, than look to face the greater evil of Sauron himself. And Legolas feared such stubborn pride might very well doom them all in the end.

"And how would you suggest we handle the beasts then?" Thranduil asked detestably, unknowing of the dark thoughts Legolas was currently entertaining.

"We could send an envoy, to ask them to leave our forests in peace. Or better yet we could negotiate trade agreements. I have heard the Glittering caves are well known for the gems they contain. We could barter jewels for meat. We have more than enough game to share and the jewels would be a welcome addition to the royal treasury."

"Barter with dwarves? Have you gone mad? Those….those creatures are barbarians. No civilized being could possibly reason with a sort such as them. Violence is the only thing those brutes understand. Where ever did you get such preposterous notions? Next you'll be suggesting we give the humans free reign to bring about Middle Earth's destruction.

Legolas averted his eyes, from his father's searching gaze lest he betray his heart, but it was to no avail. The prince's face was proof enough of his thoughts.

"Your silence speaks well for you my son." Thranduil replied in a disturbingly calm voice. "What would you have me do, give middle earth over to dwarves and humans? They are weak, flawed creatures. Their greed, their violent natures would destroy everything we have worked for. All the beauty of this world would be lost to their ignorance." The king replied with disdain.

"So let us teach them then." Legolas cried out with impassionment. "We can show them beauty, give them light. You have said yourself father that the time of the elves is ending. What then of Middle Earth? Would you leave it for Sauron to claim? Would you leave the mortals of this world to such a fate?"

"It is all that they deserve, for their betrayals." Thranduil answered furiously. "And Sauron is of no concern to us. Should he dare encroach upon our lands we will destroy him. We have defeated him before and we shall do so again.

"He already encroaches on our lands father. Have you not see the darkness spreading through our forests, suffocating all the light and purity from our home? I can FEEL him ada. Sauron is growing stronger as he gathers his dark forces against us. I can feel his hatred burning through me as he whispers despair in my mind."

Legolas could not resist a shudder running up his spine as Sauron's icy presence grew stronger as though speaking his name gave him power and focus. The young prince was filled with a wave of despair, whispering promises of failure, pain, and eternally damnation at Sauron's hand.

Legolas saw in his mind's eye the forests of Mirkwood burning into ash. The elves of Mirkwood fought futily against the invading hordes of orcs, wargs, and wraiths alike.

The stench of burning flesh and blood scorched the prince's nostrils and the screams of dying elves pounded agonizingly against his temples.

Woman fought daringly to protect their children, but fell beneath the wraiths demon bred beasts while their children were ripped about by savage wargs.

No quarter was given...no mercy offered. The elves were massacred in a blinding haze of hatred. And Legolas was helpless at the center of it all. He could not move, could not fight to defend his people. He was glued in place by powers beyond his understanding, forced to watch the destruction of all he held dear.

Silent tears fell down the young prince's face as he saw the end of all goodness, the scene of suffering forever burned into his memories.

His eyes were drawn by some commotion at the center of the carnage. There in a giant black beast, more fearsome even then the wraith's own demon mounts, rode a figure of such evil and malicious it surrounded him like a black cloud.

Legolas couldn't help, but gag uselessly against the very reek of his presence. It seemed to drain all light…all hope from the world. Raping the lands and people until they were soulless in it's wake.

The dark figure was cloaked in metal armor adding to his cold fearsome countenance as he led his gruesome troops through the waning defense of elves. He slashed and parried, killing elf and orc alike beneath his great sword, with seeming board disinterested.

While in one hand he carried his great sword in the other it seemed he carried the end of a great flag pole. But strangly there was no flag upon it. Legolas squinted his eyes against the abysmal shadows and shuddered as he made out a round elf-shaped head perched upon the large wooden pole…the king's head. His father's head.

Sauron carried the king's head like some grotesque trophy, as he progressively made his way to the palace doors.

Legolas felt bile rise in his throat and wanted nothing more than to expel the contents of his stomach. But this dark force kept him agonizingly paralyzed, unable to even look away from the horrendous scenes.

His father's eyes seemed to stare back at him with hopeless fear and anguish and Legolas gasped as air stubbornly refused to enter his lungs.

"No…" The young prince whispered out between stiff lips and air deprived lungs.

Sauron turned his mount towards the young prince, as though seeing him for the first time, and started to let out a cold peeling laughter that made the earth wretch and the trees quiver.

"The fall of Mirkwood….soon young prince soon." Sauron laughed with ominous confidence.

And then the scene seemed to change right before the prince's very eyes.

Legolas was no longer among the killing fields of a lost war, but in some dark sinister place.

The prince squinted his eyes looking around for some scant source of light….any light at all in such a place as this would be surely Valar sent.

After a few minutes a cold numbing realization hit the prince. This was the palace….his home….the throne room to be more exact. It was no longer a place filled with light and warmth, but dark, cold, and menacing. The rich tapestries looked like moth eaten dust collecting rags and the once bright plush carpets were now mud streaked tatters. The once elegant gold encrusted chandeliers that use to light this room lay in broken shatters in the corners of the room. No doubt plucked unceremoniously from their places of honor by light hating orcs and cast aside like worthless trinkets of junk.

It looked more a prison than a palace….or perhaps a tomb. Legolas shuddered uncontrollably at the thought as claustrophobia began to eat at his resolve.

A loud booming, frighteningly familiar laugh, jerked Legolas none too pleasantly from his thoughts and he turned with slow reluctance towards the throne, knowing with cold certainty what he would find there.

Sauron in all his dark majesty perched upon Thranduil's golden throne. The elf king's crown was perched upon the demon's head, not so much as a sign of power, as a mocking of the king who once wore it.

Legolas tried forcing himself to his feet, so he could confront this king slayer once and for all. Filled with a hopeless rage the prince surged to his feet prepared to fight to the death to see his father, his kingdom, and his people avenged.

But before he even got halfway up he was jerked roughly back to the ground. The sounds of clinking chains caught his attention and he looked around only to discover his arms and legs were firmly shackled to the palace floor.

Legolas pulled fiercely against his metal bonds, but they stubbornly refused to budge.

After several minutes of fighting uselessly against his chains the prince collapsed in exhaustion, breathing heavily from the exertion.

He reached his hand precariously to his throat. He felt like he was suffocating…he couldn't breath.

Legolas' hand collided with a metal barrier that prevented him from reaching the soft skin of his throat. After a bit of feeling around this metal perimeter the prince's look of consternation transformed into a look of aghast terror….it was a collar.

A cold metal collar encircled his throat binding him in ways mere chains never could.

The prince felt panic overtake him as he pulled frantically against the collar, unheedful of the further injury he caused him self in his panic induced haze to escape his bonds.

The sounds of cruel laughter burned his ears as orcs laughed at the young prince's pointless frenzy, savoring the young elf's terror and pain.

Above the orcs rose Sauron's booming laughter as he took in his golden-haired prize. His new pet….the prince of Mirkwood…the last elf of Mirkwood.

Sauron rose from his throne and walked down the steps that led to Legolas' stooped form.

Legolas immediately ceased his struggles, recoiling away from the offensive evil of Sauron.

This seemed to amuse the demon lord as he looked down possessively at the young helpless elf prince.

Relishing in Legolas' hopelessness, Sauron reached a cold metal gloved hand towards the trapped prince.

Unable to avoid Sauron, Legolas gazed at him darkly, shuddering away from the cold metal touch running down his cheek.

"Mine soon. All of it mine soon." Sauron promised darkly.

"No never." Legolas swore angrily. "you'll never take Mirkwood demon. You will never make me your slave." The prince added more weakly as Sauron's touch seemed to leak away the prince's resistance.

Legolas closed his eyes, bowing his head in failure. Everything was lost now, his home, his people, his family. He was all alone in this horribly dark place, a slave to a demon. He would never escape, and he could not save middle earth from it's ultimate doom. It was hopeless.

"There is always hope…." A voice seemed to whisper on the wind. It sounded so familiar…

Legolas lifted his head, for now ignoring the dark force settled over him. He looked around frantically for the source of the voice…his salvation. He would go mad without it.

"To deny hope only gives free reign to the darkness." The voice whispered again. 

Legolas to his own frustration seemed unable to find its source, and yet he was warmed by the sense of it's presence. He suddenly did not feel overwhemled in utter despair. There was hope again.

"No…no. Who's there . What's happening? Your mine. Mine, you hear me? I will have you and I will have Mirkwood." Sauron began shrieking as he saw the light returning to the prince's eyes. The dark lord reached out to grab the prince, but his hand went straight through the golden-haired elf. He couldn't touch him.

"No." Sauron shrieked again. He was losing control. "You will submit to me. You have no hope. You will bow before me."

Legolas lifted himself to his feet. He was bound by chains no longer as he stood in defiance of the dark lord.

The young elf prince began to glow with a strange unnatural light that caused the dark lord and his minions to stagger backwards, covering their faces against the offensive light.

"You will not have Mirkwood Sauron. This is not the future you have shown me. You will be defeated, this I vow before all the Valar. I shall see that your evil no longer has a place on middle earth. You have no power here demon, begone!"

Legolas breathed deeply, as he willed the new found hope inside him to push away the darkness encroaching on his soul. And suddenly he was filled with a warm and reassuring feeling that drove Sauron's dark void away.

Legolas slowly opened his eyes feeling renewed and refreshed, alive in a way he had only experienced once before in the presence of a young human slave boy. The voice, the one that had called to him in Sauron's dark vision…it had been Estel's!

The elf prince looked up his eyes connecting with his fathers own wide startled blue ones.

"Wh…what did you do?" Thranduil whispered with ill-concealed awe. "I have never seen a wander such as this. Your light, it dimmed. And then a darkness came over the room that took away all light….all hope. I felt such despair come over me that I wished nothing more than death. But then your light began to pulse like nothing I've seen before. You glowed so bright I was nearly blinded, and then I was overcome with such confidence I knew I could face anything. I was never so certain of myself….never so hopeful. I do not know what has happened, but I feel as though some great war was just waged right before my eyes, and I saw none of it." Thranduil shook his head in an uncertain daze.

"I do not know either ada. I can not explain was has happened, because I do not understand was has occurred anymore that you. I felt such despondency come over me. I felt Sauron in my head whispering his dark thoughts, and he showed me such a horrible vision." Legolas shuddered as he was reminded of all he had seen. "I thought myself lost then, but then I was reminded of hope, and I suddenly had the power to force him from my thoughts."

Legolas rubbed his arm uncertainly as he answered, nervous over how his father would react, to this unexpected turn of events.

"This is truly a wondrous gift." Thranduil proclaimed with awe and pride directed at his son. "This is a blessing from the Valar."

"Yes the Valar…" Legolas whispered under his breath.

How the prince wished he could tell his father the truth. It was not the Valar who had bestowed this gift upon him, but rather a young slave boy named Estel.

Perhaps then his father would know there was hope for men still left in the world. Men where no longer a race bent only on greed and power. Men were no longer violent barbarians needing to be ruled and controlled by cooler heads, and Legolas feared deep down that perhaps they never were.

But no, it was not the right time. Legolas could not explain what held him back from spilling these pining mysteries, but he sensed that these secrets must remain just so for a time, for the boy's sake as well as all of middle earth.

But someday, Legolas promised determinedly, King Thranduil would see the greatness of men, and there would be peace and unity between the races once more.

Thranduil had begun to pace the room once more in his excitement, blinded to his son's thoughts. The king did not notice the consternation that crossed the young prince's face, at his father's undeserved praise.

Legolas had longed for his father to look on his with such pride and admiration for so long, but not for actions he had no control over. He couldn't even explain what happened much less if he had even been responsible.

"With such a gift as this Sauron will be no match for us now. The Valar has blessed us…forgiven out past failures. We are forsaken no longer. Thranduil said with joyous exclamation, and perhaps a bit of relief?

Legolas held his peace while the king became lost in his own soliloquy.

Legolas felt certain the Valar had never forsaken them, even in the darkest times after the ring remained undestroyed and the races of middle earth had shattered. Yet he knew it would be a futile debate against his father's stubborn certainties. When the elves could no longer create life, Thranduil had seen this as a sign that the Valar had abandoned the elves, and had thus in turn blamed the elves misfortune on the human race. For if the humans had destroyed the foul ring of Sauron, then the Valar would not have taken his anger out on the elves.

"No father." Legolas protested his father's misplaced ideas. "Not even the combined power of Mithrandir and the wizard's council could withstand Sauron's strength during the last great war. I have no power against Sauron…at least not enough to defeat him. It was only through the combined alliance of elves, dwarves, and men that we were able to end Sauron's reign all those centuries ago, and it is only with such an alliance we can do so again. Do you not see father? We can afford no more enemies. Only if we reforge the alliances of old will Sauron be defeated."

"It is because of men and dwarves that Sauron still lives.' Thranduil thundered, his eyes smoldering at the mere mention of allying with such traitorous creatures. "We lost too many lives in that war, my father among them. I will not see it happen again because of the incompetence of men and dwarves."

"And yet the devastation will be ten fold what came before without them." Legolas replied a haunted look in his eye. "I have seen it father, the fall of Mirkwood. Sauron will destroy us. We can not find him alone. We must rebuild the alliances of old or all is lost.

Legolas leaned forward in his chair and laid his hand gently on his father's arm, his eyes filled with a silent plea. "Please father, let go of your hate. Let these scars of the past heal before they consume you."

Legolas willed all the love he could into that simple touch, and for a moment it seemed to draw away the hurt and anger from Thranduil's eyes, leaving the compassionate king Legolas recalled from childhood….before his mother passed across the sea.

But as quickly as it had come, the image was gone and the deep rooted hate and despair hardened the king once more into the cold aloof ruler Legolas was all too familiar with.

"You are young. You do not yet know the weakness of men and dwarves." Thranduil replied.

Legolas let his hand slide forlornly off his father's arm, suddenly overcome with fatigue. The young prince hung his head in resignation. He could not fight his father's demons….

"Not yet, but you will be…light guardian." A voice seemed to whisper on the air.

Legolas jerked his head up in surprise. He looked over at his father, but no the king had not spoken again. Who was it? Estel? No the voice had sounded much older than that this time. The dread of uncertainty tightened in his gut as he tried puzzle out this enigma.

The elf prince perked up his ears waiting expectantly for further words, but none were forthcoming. Perhaps he had imagined the voice…maybe it had all become too much. Was he going insane?

"Legolas…my son, what is wrong? Speak to me." Thrandui shook the prince's arms roughly demanding response in the way of panic stricken fathers.

The prince blinked focusing on the blurry image of his frantic father bending over him.

"Ada…" he rasped between a strangely dry mouth. He felt so weak all of a sudden.

"Oh Legolas thank the Valar. You got so pale looking. I tried calling your name, but it was as though you were deaf and blind to me. I could not reach you. You moved not an inch and I was not sure you still breathed. If your eyes were not open I would have thought you dead." Thanduil ranted on in a panicked haze of words. The king still held Legolas tightly in his arms assuring himself that the prince was indeed alive and well. It seemed the day had been too much for the king as well.

"Do not fear for me. I am just weary father. Perhaps if I might rest a bit?" Legolas asked timidly. He knew there was still many matters of state business to be discussed, but he was just so tired. It was as though all energy had drained from him, and he could barely keep his eyes open now.

"Of course ion nin. You are excused. I am sure the dwarves can wait another day. As you said they're only a minor nuisance at the moment. We'll deal with them in good time."

Legolas was quite sure those were anything but his exact words, but he had no strength to argue the point.

The elf prince rose shakily from his chair, while his father watched his with troubled eyes. The king's muscled were bunched up and tense set to pounce should his son falter.

Legolas resolutely straightened his back and locked his knees, refusing to waver will his father watched him.

The prince took one hesitant step towards the door, then a second. He was pleased to find his steps steady. After only a few moments he had made it across the room, without swaying once. He set his hand against the door, preparing to leave, when his father's voice halted him in his tracks.

"If your up to it I would have you join me for dinner tonight Legolas. We will be having guests. It would do well to have you attend." The king requested politely. He had no intention of ordering his son to attend him this night when he feared for the boy's health. If these guests were no so important he would not even bring up the issue. Should Legolas refuse he would abide by his son's decision, his guests be damned.

"Guests?" Legolas turned back to his father with confusion in his eyes. He had heard nothing of guests coming tonight.

"Lord Elrond of Rivendell and his two sons." Thranduil supplied.

Legolas raised a questioning eyebrow waiting patiently for an explanation as to these unexpected visitors. After all it was well known that Thranduil had no liking for the elves of Rivendell, particular Lord Elrond. So what had led to this unexpected visit. Had his father invited them? To what end?

"A wise elf once said we can no longer afford to make enemies. It is only with allies at our backs that we can defeat Sauron. Perhaps I am not so ignorant of Sauron's ways as it would appear." Thranduil teased gently.

Legolas smiled as his own words came back to haunt him.

Legolas nodded his head in consent that he would agree to join his father and their guests for dinner before exiting the room.

Legolas nodded distractedly at the two guards standing vigil at his father's study, as the elf prince's thoughts carried him down the hall.

Perhaps there was hope for his father yet. Legolas smiled wearily.

"This is always hope lightbringer." A voice whispered on the wind, giving the prince much to think about.

To My Reviewers: I will be posting reviews. I didn't have time today and I figured I might as well go ahead and post. I have about 70 reviews to respond to so it might take a few days, but I intend to edit this chapter and post them once I get them all finished.

So thanks for all your reviews and please be assured that I have not forgot you. I don't want to rush through them with single sentence answers and I didn't think you would appreciate post-ponement of a long overdue story for them.


	6. Chapter Five: Payment By Blood

A/N: Hey everyone here, finally is the next chapter. I've just had the hardest time finishing it because it's just not an exciting chapter and it's mostly Legolas….Please stop throwing things at me. I'm sorry…I'm sorry. I felt this was an important chapter…not sure why, but there you have it. I've written it so now it's finally here. I've hopefully at least made it really angsty and I think you'll find the ending to be quite the cliff hanger, which I normally don't like cliff hangers, but I thought it might make up for what I think is a somewhat dry connecting chapter. The main purpose of this chapter is develop Legolas' feelings for Estel and his loathing for Firithgalad. I as always apologize for the grammatical mistakes. I didn't even reread this one so I know it's horrible. I was finally hit with a writers bug and wanted to finish and I know you guys have been waiting for ever (wink wink certain 100th reviewer) and so I thought I might as well post it. I hope you still enjoy and I've started writing a little of the next chapter which I promise has lots of Estel, lots of angst, and another cliff hanger ending! Enjoy in my good health….lol! And remember to take up all complaints with Legolas since this is his crappy chapter. Lol.

Chapter Five: Payment by Blood

Legolas followed some unforeseen route through the palace halls contemplating the strange occurrences he had faced throughout the day. First, a human slave boy with some uncanny ability to instill hope, to such an extend it became a power all its own, then suddenly the prince finds he has developed his own special ability to fight off the dark influences of Sauron, and now he was starting to hear voices that seemingly no one else seemed able to hear.

Was any of this real or was he going mad? Perhaps it was all just some bizarre dream he was having, but Legolas had to admit it seemed awfully vivid for a dream, even an elvish dream.

The elf prince closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to awaken, giving himself a pinch in the arm for good measure while he was at it.

After a few hesitant moments feeling no particular change, Legolas lifted his eyelids expectantly, but rather than being within his soft cushioned bed, he remained obstinately in this hallway.

Perhaps it wasn't a dream after all, Legolas thought resignedly, as bizarre as this day seemed to be going. Perhaps he truly was going mad after all, certainly not the ideal alternative.

And if it wasn't a dream then he had just made an absolute fool of himself. Legolas felt his cheeks redden with embarrassment. He cast surreptitious glances down both sides of the walkway, fearful someone had seen him standing in the middle of the hallway looking like he'd lost his mind.

While he might very well be mad that did not mean he was inclined for the whole palace to know of it. He could just imagine the lecture he would receive from his father should the king hear of this.

Thankfully….mercifully his surveillance met with no results. It seemed the Valar was with him today after all.

And yet something just didn't seem quite right. He had this nagging sense of unease coming over him making him feel nervous.

The air held itself in tense anticipation as though some dark deed had been done or was about to be.

Legolas walked down the hallway cautiously, his body tensed in expectation for unknown disaster.

His sharp eyes slowly spotted a huddled form materializing in his vision. The unknown thing as he could as yet term it was still quite some distance away, yet his blood was thudding with urgency that demanded he throw away all caution.

The elf prince felt a longing to run towards this unknown object, least he remain a moment longer with such a mystery left unknown, but years of training stilled his impatience lest he sacrifice caution to his own detriment.

The prince compromised increasing his pace, if but slightly; while keeping his senses fine tuned to danger.

Legolas approached the crumpled form warily, gripping one of his elven daggers reassuringly should some threat occur. As the prince made out the form of an adult human female he allowed the grip on his knife to ease, as his warrior skills informed him there was no threat.

Legolas knelt by the young woman observing her curiously. The woman's eyes were closed leaving the young prince confused. Elves slept with there eyes open, but he was not sure the same held true for humans. He was sure he recalled hearing once that humans preferred to sleep with their eyes closed, a strange abnormality to be sure.

However the elf prince felt quite certain this woman was not asleep belied by the broken dishes scattered across the carpet, precious china ground unsalvageable into the carpet.

The woman lay on her back with her head slouched against a small hallway table used to hold decorative vases of flowers.

There were similar such tables placed periodic down the long hallways of the palace to give a more natural feel to these cold stone walls.

The vase from this particular flower arrangement lay in shattered pieces mixed in with some broken tea cups. Legolas quickly surmised the woman before she had met this unexpected fate, must have been delivering afternoon tea to someone, most like his father.

A small puddle of water had pooled upon the table trickled preciously onto the carpet making an almost eerie dripping sound.

The territory looked like a disaster area at the moment, sending a thrill of apprehension up the prince's spine. What had caused this devastation? Surely not the woman. What had happened here?

Legolas looked at the young human woman uncertain what to do. Was she injured…why did she lay there so strangely….was she dead? He knew nothing of human physiology and he was no healer.

The human did seem a bit paler than human's usually did, but Legolas wasn't positive it wasn't his own misinformation that made him assume so. He reached his hand tentatively out to touch her hand.

He jerked back as though scalded as he left a small red imprint on her skin.

Legolas lifted his hand shakily into his eye sight afraid of what he might see. His hand was covered in a red sticky substance filled with the noxious odor of iron. The prince had seen the likes of such far too many times to be ignorant of the fluid substance….blood.

It took the prince a panicked moment to realize the blood must surely be this woman's and not his own, for it did not bear the slight silver tinge that was found in elf blood.

He followed his line of sight back to the source of this red fluid and was aghast to see a puddle pooling under the prone woman's still form, staining the carpet permanently in it's crimson sheen.

The prince was aghast to find the blood has already begun to leak unto the knees of his pants, soaking further and further up his person like some dark tide or red.

He shuddered forcing his eyes away from the encroaching red and brought his mind back to the task at hand. From where on this human did the blood originate? He could see no noticeable wounds on her person, it could surely be anywhere.

Legolas debated running for a healer, afraid to leave the unconscious woman alone should something happen to her. What if the woman's assailant returned to finish his ghastly deed. Legolas would never forgive himself should he allow a helpless woman to fall to such a fate.

The prince looked frantically around the hallway, hoping someone was in shouting distance, but alas the hall stayed disturbingly empty. While only moments ago such isolation had seemed a blessing, a now it had become a curse.

Legolas felt movement beneath his fingertips and jerked quickly around to see the woman slowly coming back to consciousness.

The elf prince sighed with relief. At least she wasn't dead then. She had laid so still before the young prince had been fearfully uncertain.

The woman began to moan softly as she tried moving stubbornly sluggish limbs in an attempt to gain some semblance of her predicament. Her eyes opened hesitantly looking about with an unfocused daze while her mind struggled to reorganize.

Legolas simply watched the scene uncertainly, unsure how best to assist the woman.

After a few moments the woman finally seemed to focus in on the prince, her face contorting from confusion into terrified anxiety.

The woman wept fearfully as she cringed away from the prince.

"Shhh… it is well." Legolas answered soothingly. "I will not hurt you. You have nothing to fear. Please, who did this to you? How did you come to be in such a state?"

The woman slowly and agonizingly tried to force herself to a sitting position, continuing to watch the prince with wide startled eyes.

Legolas gently helped the woman rise, leaning her up against the wall where she breathed haggardly as exhaustion overcame her from even so simple a task.

She tensed at the prince's contact, but made no comment as the prince helped her rise.

Legolas quickly removed his hands once he had helped her up not wishing to cause the distraught woman further discomfort, but before the prince could take his hands away a safe distance the woman snapped out her hand like a viper onto his wrist holding the prince like a life-line.

The prince gazed guardedly at the woman as he felt her nails burrowing into his skin drawing pin pricks of blood.

The slave woman looked at the prince with pleading eyes that immediately sent a flutter of fear in his stomach.

"Pleaze help him. My Eztel. Don let him hurt my Eztel. He'z jus a boy. Have merzy." The woman implored, her words sluggishly following over stiff lips.

Legolas' brows crinkled in worry afraid the woman must surly have a concussion of some sort to be speaking so disorganized.

"Eztel?" Legolas asked allowed. The women sluggish words made them difficult to decipher. After a few moments of thought the word rang with cold clarity. "Estel. Are you talking about Estel?" Legolas asked the woman.

"He took him. He'z not a bad boy. Pleaze he'z just a child. Don't let him have him." She pleaded her eyes seem to go in and out of focus as she spoke.

The sheer fear and desperation in the woman's voice chilled the prince to the bones. Though the woman seemed disorganized in thought and speech her message could be nothing more than clear….Estel was in danger.

"Who has taken Estel? Who wants to hurt him?" Legolas commanded as he held the woman's face in his hands, trying to get the woman's thoughts in order, as fear choked at the young prince's heart.

He scarcely knew this young slave boy and yet he could not bear to see the child harmed. A cloying sense of terror nearly kept him paralyzed with fear as he felt the danger crackling in the tensed air, as though the world held it's breathe for some great tragedy to occur.

Legolas felt certain that at this moment the very fate of middle earth hung in the balance. Should the boy die today all would be for naught. The elf prince did not stop to question why he thought these things. While the survival of middle earth was the most important thing, at the moment in the mind of a terrified elven prince it took second fiddle to the life of one young human slave boy.

"Tell me who has taken Estel? Where is he?" Legolas shook the woman frantically trying to pull answers from her addled mind.

"The forest. He'z inz the forezt." The woman strained slowly, seeming to have to force out coherency.

Legolas felt his innards freeze. The forest? Where in the forest? The boy could be miles from here now. Who knew how long ago the child had been taken away or even what direction. It was a futile pursuit. The sun was already starting it's descent beneath the mountains. It would surely be dark before a search party could be formed.

The elf prince felt despair grip his heart. He had failed this boy who had become his friend. Legolas forced burning tears of resentment from his eyes feeling wholly disgusted with himself.

The child had been scared. He had not wanted to leave the safety of the prince's chambers, but Legolas had forced him out. It was Legolas' fault the boy had suffered. He had sent Estel to his doom. And the prince would never even know the boy's murder…

And then the realization hit Legolas with deadly certain. Firithgalad! Estel had been afraid of the elf guard and Firithgalad had been embarrassed because of the human.

It was obvious the guard had left bitter, but Legolas had never imagined the elf would stoop so far as to harm the boy in retaliation. If the elf had anyone to be mad at it was Legolas, he was the one who had belittled the guard. He was the one who had demanded Firithgalad debase himself. Estel had done nothing… nothing except for the fact of being human, and in the elf guard's eyes inferior.

Legolas was to blame for all of it. He had truly hurt the boy more than he had helped him by shaming the quick tempered guard. And now young Estel paid the price for his own folly.

Legolas squared his shoulders determinedly. He could not give up now. He would go into the woods and find his young human friend, even should it mean riding through the forests in the dark of night.

And should it be too late? Legolas' mind cruelly whispered. Then Firithgalad would share his fate. The prince vowed.

Legolas had nearly set himself to begin forming a search party, when his eyes strayed to the weeping distraught slave woman. He had nearly forgotten about her.

He didn't know this anonymous woman's relation to young Estel…she seemed too old to be his mother, perhaps his grandmother? He couldn't be certain, but he couldn't just leave her here in any case.

She seemed now at a point of almost being complete oblivious with all that was around her. She was rocking herself back and forth whispering "My Eztel…My Eztel. Don'z hurz my Eztel" over and over while she bawled uncontrollably, loss in her own world.

Legolas could not just leave her like this. It was obvious she was in need of immediate medical attention, that Legolas was ill equipped to provide. She needed a physician.

Legolas quickly decided he would take the woman to the healing wing and then he would set out to search.

"Come with me and I will find you help." Legolas whispered quietly as he helped the woman wobbly to her feet.

The woman had stopped her moaning and now remained eerily silent as she wavered unsteadily on her stubbornly unsupportive legs.

The prince took much of the woman's weight, as he wrapped his arms firmly around her to keep her upright.

The elf prince slowly led the dazed woman down the hallway whispering soothing words of comfort and encouragement while he seethed inside at the lack of progress. It was painfully slow nearly dragging the disabled woman down the long endless hallway.

But the prince forcefully gritted his teeth against his own seething impatience, a rare and decided unpleasant feeling, as he continued to prod the woman foreward as quickly as he was able.

"I promise you I will find Estel and should I fail he will be avenged. His death will not go unpunished this I swear." Legolas promised the woman. While He was unsure if this woman was Estel's mother, she was obviously fond of the boy, and thus he made his vow of vengeance to her.

"Please bring him home." The woman implored looking more lucid then she had since Legolas had come upon her. "Please lord." The woman turned pleading hopeful eyes to the prince, silently begging him to bring the child home safe.

"I shall do all in my power to see it so." Legolas promised. "It was Firithgalad that took him wasn't it? Do you know which way he's gone?"

The woman stiffened at the mention of the elf guard's name, but offered no confirmation or negation to the question, rather choosing to ignore it all together. "I don'z knoz where he's gone, my lorz. He takez themz to the woodz to hunt. I don know wherz he goez." The woman answered the lucidity slowing fading away again in a tide of confusion.

Legolas was unsure who "themz" was, but the prince had a sinking suspicion. And it filled the young prince with incomprehensible horror. Would an elf truly take out humans and hunt them for sport? What monster could do such a thing? That was an act one would associate with orcs not elves. It disgusted the prince to the very core of his being. Firithgalad had much to answer for.

Legolas felt a chill of fear run through his body as he imagined poor Estel running through the dark forest…running for his very life. The boy must be so frightened, not knowing where to go or what to do, fatigue and despair eating away his resolve.

Damn these tears that stung his eyes.

Legolas' forced them away with his free hand. He pushed their pace faster willing Estel to stay safe until he could come for him.

Legolas felt his arm muscles straining against the force of the woman's weight, and knew he would have to pause a moment and rest or risk dropping the slave women and causing her further damage.

The pause needled at the prince, for every moment could mean the difference between the life or death of his new young friend. He would never forgive himself should he come too late.

Legolas gently sat the women upon the floor, leaning her gently against the wall. The injured slave had gone strangely quiet though she seemed awake if only barely. The woman's eyes drooped exhaustedly and her breathing was a bit heavy considering how little energy she was expending, but Legolas remained hopeful she would be well once gotten to the healers.

He took a few deep breaths and allowed the blood to flow back into his arms, anxiety eating at him every second he wasted.

After only a few moments of rest he slowly helped the woman to rise again. Legolas whispered soothing words of encouragement to the woman trying to boost her spirits as well as his own. He was uncertain if his efforts had any effect of the slave woman, but it did help ease his own nerves, something to thing about other than Estel's uncertain fate.

He could afford no more time for comfort. There simply was no time left.

As they started foreward again the woman became tense and started to pull anxiously at the prince's grip. she must be delirious Legolas thought worriedly as the woman, with a panicked look of terror on her face continued to thrash weakly though unsuccessfully against the prince's hold, as though she no longer realized whom he was.

"Please stop this madness." Legolas tried reasoning with her. "You'll hurt yourself."

Having been distracted by the woman's antics Legolas' keen ears were slow to picked up the sound of soft foot falls approaching. The prince's face perked up hopeful. Was someone coming who could help? Someone who could help Legolas get this injured woman to the healers all the quicker and then to Estel's aid?

Legolas tried whispering calm soothing elvish words to the woman hoping to calm her once more, but as the footfalls came closer the woman seemed to grow more distraught. The prince simply could not explain this strange behavior.

He began to fear the woman if not calmed would surely cause herself further injury or seeing as he was in her general range might very well find himself injured as well. And at the moment he could not afford to be incapacitated in any fashion…estel's life might very well depend on his coming to his aid as quickly as possible.

"Please hush." Legolas whispered worriedly. "You must be calm lest you cause yourself further injury."

And then as quickly as it came the bout of madness ended and the woman lagged weakly against the prince, much to his mutual relief and concern.

Legolas eyes the woman apprehensively afraid the slightest movement might very well set her off again.

The woman was breathing heavily and her skin was pale and had a sweaty sheen to it that made it reflect the light of the candles lining the hallway.

Her face still remained morphed in a look of abject terror and she turned wide dazed eyes on the prince. Legolas could see the seeming resignation and hopelessness of the woman as her whole body spoke of utter desolation.

Had something happened to Estel? Legolas thought worriedly. Had the woman felt it? Was Estel hurt…injured…or perhaps dead? The prince refused to think of the thought.

Surely he would have felt it if something had become of the boy. Estel was a part of him now. The second the boy had touched his hand there had been an irrevocable bond between them. He would know if the boy had come to harm. He thought with certainty. He would have felt it.

"It will be well." Legolas replied comfortingly to the woman. "I will take you to the healers and they will care for you and then I will go and look for Estel. I will bring him back and all shall be well."

"Eztel. No don'z lez him hurz Eztel." The woman slurred out frantically as she began to weep helplessly.

Perhaps I should not have mentioned Estel the prince thought forlornly. He had only wished to comfort the woman, but it seemed he had only worried her further.

The woman's eyes widened seemingly further if that was possible and she fell strangely silent as she looked at something down the hallway. Then suddenly she burst out crying again and buried her face in the prince's chest. Her body was trembling noticeably against the prince…whomever was approaching seemed to be frightening the already distraught woman.

Legolas realized the approaching footsteps had stopped a few feet away, and he could almost feel the smoldering presence in the air.

Even so he looked up hopefully at this supposed savior. At last someone who could help him.

And then hope fell and was crushed under the cruel heel of despair.

Legolas could not prevent a silent gasp as he made out the expectant savior. It was none other than Firithgalad.

"No…Estel." Legolas whispered forlornly. If Firithgalad was here what did that mean for the young slave boy the elf guard had taken with him. Had Firithgalad caught the boy? Was he dead? Legolas shuddered at the thought refusing to accept it. No estel was alive. The boy was resourceful he had gotten away some how, escaped into the forest.

And yet Legolas could not allow this thoughts to appease his worried conscience. What were the chances a young human boy come ever hope to hide for a trained Mirkwood warrior who was well-experienced with these woods? And even if young Estel had managed to allude his pursuer there were still the evil creatures of the forest to contend with. Truly Estel was very like dead or soon to be.

But Legolas had to know….had to be certain. And if he was? If Estel was dead he vowed that Firithgalad's blood would flow this day in payment.

Legolas succored his building rage for the guard. He squared his shoulders, hefting the injured slave woman more securely in his arms, ignoring her silent whimpers, as he faced down the only elf he had ever come to hate.

"Firithgalad." Legolas shouted out challengingly. "Were is he? What have you done to him?"

The slave woman shuddered at the mention of Firithgalad's name. Legolas patted her soothingly calming her distress, however his eyes remained firmly planted upon his nemesis.

Firithgalad had finally gotten within speaking range and stopped abruptly.

Legolas almost couldn't prevent a gasp from erupting for his throat as he made out the red angry scar slashed haphazardly across the elf guards pale skin.

Blood dripped noticeably down the elf's cheek staining the guards shirt a pale crimson. Yet Firithgalad seemed oblivious of the ghastly wound scarring the once handsome face. While the scar would most likely not be permanent it would certainly be unpleasant and painful for a while if nothing else.

Legolas could see the obvious fury the seethed across the elf guard's face. Firithgalad was absolutely incensed with anger.

The golden-haired archer was uncertain how this boded for young Estel or for himself in this matter. He had a sinking concern that the elf guard might very well strike out at him should Firithgalad have the notion to. It appeared the elf had grown unstable in perhaps a potentially deadly way. Legolas had to use all his self control to keep from backing away from this malevolent being.

Legolas conspicuously eased a dagger from it's sheath preparing should he have to defend himself and his nearly unconscious charge.

Legolas was tempted to lay the woman down so he could better face his opponent, but he feared this slight lapse in concentration might be his downfall should Firithgalad choose such a moment to attack.

"Tell me Firithgalad. What did you do with the boy?" Legolas demanded again.

Firithgalad looked back at the prince, as though he had just noticed he was there. The anger fell away from his face, as though finally realizing who was addressing him. But the elf guard could not completely conceal his true feelings as his eyes continued to rage unhindered.

"What boy?" The guard asked dumbly.

"You know of what boy I speak….You will tell me what have you done with Estel." Legolas growled angrily all cordiality gone.

"So it is Estel now." Firithgalad sneered no longer caring about whom he was speaking to as his anger got the better of him.

"You act as though he's worthy of your attentions, but he is nothing more than a slave and a worthless one at that. A tool to be used and thrown away when it loses it's purpose…and he has indeed lost his purpose. Like that one you have leeching to you now. Give her to me and I'll see her properly dealt with." The guard sneeringly replied as he eyed the slave woman possessively.

"You'll not touch her." Legolas seethed dangerously between his teeth. He held the trembling woman tightly…protectively to him as he glared darkly at the elf guard. He had no idea why Firithgalad was so interested in this woman, but Legolas was certain his reasons were anything, but beneficent.

This action seemed more to amuse Firithgalad then waylay the foolish elf, an evil grin plastered to his face.

"Well she is a pretty thing. Perhaps you'd prefer to have a romp with her yourself. She's a bit old for my taste, in human terms that is, but she does still cut a comely figure. But if you'd like I could find you a more suitable candidate, your highness." Firithgalad answered bowing mockingly as he said the prince's title. "Just give me the woman and I can find you a far more suitable and assuredly more attractive young wench to meet your appetites."

Legolas blushed furiously at the elf guard's unrefined speech. It was well known that the prince had as yet never had a woman warm his bed sheets. It was surely a cruel and shameful jab at his malehood. But one he had no intention of addressing.

Legolas had no shame in that he had never shared his love with another female. The prince knew that such was a rare and precious gift that was seldom shared with anyone other than the woman you would bind with one day.

And worse yet Firithgalad would dare to speak of rape…a crime the elves held with the highest contempt be it elf or human involved. Such an act was believed to destroy the spirit and ultimately the soul of a person leaving them an empty shell to wander the earth…a fate considered worse than death. An elf could never live through such an experience…though it was said that humans had survived such encounters, perhaps proof in the strength of their character.

It was indeed a disturbing thought that an elf who was expected to protect you…to watch your back when danger called, lacked such a sense of morality.

"You will tell me where the boy is Firithgalad. I will not ask you again." Legolas replied dangerously. He had no time to dispute the qualities of honor, goodness, and what being an elf entailed. Estel could be dying somewhere at this very moment or at the very least in danger….that is if Firithgalad had not already finished the job.

Legolas fingered the hilt of his dagger openly making his intentions known.

Firithgalad eyed the prince, trying to determine if Legolas was serious or not. Staring a few seconds into the prince's eyes the elf guard was unable to hold Legolas' gaze and quickly dropped his eyes.

"He's in the woods….the little miscreant." Firithgalad seethed under his breath, not realizing or caring if the prince heard how he described the young slave boy.

"What did you do" Legolas demanded angrily though inwardly he sighed with relief. The boy really was alive.

His eyes burning ominously with his own pent up rage. Legolas fingered his dagger tempted to slit the traitorous elf's throat now, but no. He must find out what happened to Estel. Surely Firithgalad would not be so angry if the boy was dead…it could only mean one thing…that Estel had some how escaped perhaps leaving his mark on the elf guards cheek. It just had to be so. Legolas was unwilling to accept or believe otherwise until he was given due proof of the fact and then retribution would begin.

"He was misbehaving. He needed to be disciplined…so I took care of him." Firithgalad replied defensively, avidly avoiding the prince's gaze. Though the guard was unable to conceal his anger he had grown more wary and more tense while in the prince's presence.

He knew Legolas was a formidable foe, even hindered with the woman as he was. Firithgalad kept his hands in steady reach of his own weapons as the conversation progressed and the prince's temper flared.

"You took him to the woods to hunt him didn't you?" Legolas yelled unable to restrain himself any longer. "You hunted him like an animal. You're a monster."

Firithgalad's eyes widened in surprise and he looked up at the prince quickly..his hands now shaking as they gripped the dagger in his belt. His little "hunts" had always been kept strictly secret. Only his few most trusted friends even knew or on occasion participated in what truly happened when he took a slave outside the palace walls.

How had the prince found out? Who had dared betray him?

Firithgalad glared angrily as he imagined his vengeance on the fool who dared blurt out his secret. It seemed that in the near future some elf would be meeting with a most unfortunate hunting accident or perhaps be accidentally found in a spiders lair, or what if orcs should come upon him unawares. All these options seemed appealing, but then again Firithgalad had never hunted an elf before….the idea sounded quite invigorated.

But the boy first. The slave would pay and Firithgalad intended to savor every agonizing scream…The elf guard's eyes burned with an unholy light as self-righteousness over took him.

"He deserved it. He shamed me in front of you. He's always causing trouble. He needed to be put into his place. The boy was starting to get airs especially after you coddled him like he was worthy of your attention." Firithgald muttered darkly. "You should be thanking me for getting that troublemaker from out of your hair.

"You shamed yourself. The boy had nothing to do with it. If you wish someone to be angry with than be angry with me. It was I who challenged you, as is my right as your prince." Legolas answered with cold authority. "You have become corrupted with your own power. You are an elf…where if your compassion? Where is your goodness towards all life? What has given you such hate?"

Legolas shook his head sadly at the discovery that an elf could be so corrupted…could fall so far from the goodness and light of their people.

"Tell me is he…is Estel dead?" Legolas asked almost afraid to hear the answer. He had to know for certain that this wasn't all some cruel joke on Firithgalad's part…that the boy's cold lifeless body wasn't even now being ripped apart by wargs or some other Valar forsaken fate.

Firithgalad sneered at the sadness and pain the prince showed when he talked about the slave. How weak the prince had become all besought over some worthless slave, just like some emotionally fragile elf maiden. This was their prince, the elf meant one day to lead their kingdom, and all he could do was moan and whine about some meaningless human.

The boy in such a short time had already started to corrupt the prince with his foul weakness.

He should have killed the boy when he had the chance. But there would be other opportunities. The boy would die before he could reek any further havoc and perhaps even the prince would have to be reconditioned. His weakness would weaken the entire kingdom, and that could not be allowed to happen…even if that meant the prince would have to be gotten rid of as well….and that would not be so easy an action.

Yes the boy would pay dearly for causing him this extra hassle.

"No the boy's not dead…yet." Firthgalad muttered. He may have to play by the prince's rules for now, but not forever. They would have their reckoning soon enough.

"Lord Elrond came upon us after the boy gave me this." Firithgalad touched the scar across his face a fresh wave of anger distorted his features. The shame of being bested by a human and a boy at that. If nothing else such an action in itself should be a death penalty against the little miscreant.

If the prince refused to carry it out, which he doubted by the way the prince coddled his little human pet, he would just have to ensure the proper punishment was carried out himself.

"The boy escaped into the forest after Elrond and his sons distracted me. They went after the slave after ordering me back to the palace. "

Legolas knew little of Lord Elrond, except his father's own obvious dislike of the half-elf and his offspring. They had only met on a few scarce formal occasions and then only spoken the brief formalities required between guest and host.

But Legolas had heard rumors of the elf lord that he had no slaves of his own and abhorred the practice all together. He could only hope that Lord Elrond would take pity on the boy and see him brought safely to the palace.

After all Lord Elrond was a great healer. Surely a healer would be obligated to tend to even an injured slave or risk denouncing his own calling.

But even so Legolas had no intention of leaving Estel's fate in such uncertain hands.

Finding new strength Legolas lifted the nearly unconscious slave woman into his arms and began walking quickly down the hallway.

"Firithgalad you will follow me and as soon as I have seen this woman safely to the healing ward you will take me to the place where you last saw the boy. And once I have seen the boy cared for you, I, and my father will be having a discussion about your recent conduct."

Firithgalad with a disgruntled sneer followed meekly behind the prince. He petted his dagger lovingly imagining drawling the deadly weapon from smoothly from it's sheath and stabbing it through the prince's unsuspected and even still far too trusting heart watching as the life faded from the elf prince's eyes.

But alas it was too soon. This was simply not the place or the time. The chance of discover was too great….and he had no desire to meet the executioners block because of his own impatience.

The prince continued now more dragging than helping the slave woman towards the healing wing…keeping his senses attuned to any indiscretion on Firithgalad's part. He certainly had no intention of trusting the elf guard, whom he had once trusted with his very life, not to stick a dagger in his back. Such dishonor no longer seemed above Firithgalad.

Finally Legolas could see the healing wing. He was nearly bubbling with impatience.

And then suddenly a commotion broke out. Voices were approaching in a hurried manner. The noise caused healers to come rushing out of the infarmy seeking to discover what the commotion was all about.

Legolas promptly stopped one of the healers and after assuring the elf that none of the blood was his handed off his charge into the young healers capable hands.

The prince turned towards the rapidly approaching and now certainly irate voices, affording a distrustful glance at Firithgalad, who seemed not to notice as he also watched to see what all the commotion was about.

Then what looked like a very frazzled guard came into view followed by a very noble looking elf who currently had the most gut wrenching expression on his face. Legolas would not like such a force of fury to be directed at him.

And followed behind this noble elf lord were two younger and seemingly almost identical elves who also happened to have the most unpleasantly frightening and identical looks of ferocity on their faces. They hovered protectively behind the elf lord and his unmoving burden like a pair of angry wolves set to attack any who dared impinge upon their foreward progression.

That was when Legolas allowed his eyes to wander to the object carried in the elf lord's arms.

Legolas' breath caught…it was Estel. The boy couldn't possibly still breath… he looked so pale so lifeless.

"No." Legolas quietly whispered as tears burned his eyes. "Is he…is he dead" The prince asked scarcely above a whisper his eyes still fixated upon the still young slave.

The smoldering eyes that had previously been boring into the elf guard's back turned to prince Legolas, much to the guard's visible relief.

"Nay he still lives. But for how long as yet I can not say." The elf lord replied calmly.

Legolas turned his wide mournful eyes from the boy's pale face and met the elf Lord's cold piercing eyes.

"Lord Elrond please, how badly is he injured?"

The elf lord paused a moment as though considering his answer while his eyes seemed to pierce his soul.

After a few moments the elf lord's gaze softened fractionally as he gently passed Estel over into the arms of his eldest son, Elladan. The elder twin accepted the child immediately hugging the boy with tender care against his chest. While Elhoir stood in a tense defensive position lest anyone dare to come too close.

Elrond returned his attention to Legolas inclining his head ever so slightly, which Legolas solemnly returned.

"You highness, He had two arrows lodged in him; one in his shoulder and one in his leg. I had to remove them both before I moved him lest they cause him further damage. He also is suffering from severe blood, which should be expected under the circumstances. He has a broken wrist, more cuts and bruises then I'd care to count, and is to the point of exhaustion…not to mention he's dehydrated and nearly starved to death among everything else.

Legolas turned his gaze away from the accusation. Estel had been sorely miscared for long before Firithgald ever took him to the woods. It was Legolas' responsibility to see that all the slaves were well treated and he was reminded far too often this day how much he had failed in this respect. He felt shame burn his face and he was unable to look the elf lord in the eye nor his two silent, but lethal son's glowers.

"Can not be done for the boy." Legolas asked forlornly. "Please is there anything you can do lord Elrond?"

"I shall try me best." Lord Elrond soothed gently seeing the anguish in the young prince's eyes. Perhaps the ways of Mirkwood were changing, in any case Elrond suspected he might have found an advocate in the young prince, who seemed so terrible fond of the young human.

"You shall have everything you require, my lord, and all the best healer's of Mirkwood at your disposal." The prince commanded. "If there is anything more I or my father can do you need only ask."

"Thank you prince Legolas and now with your leave we must make haste. I fear his time runs short."

"Ada." Elhoir cried in panic.

Elrond turned and look back at his now pale faced children.

"My son's what is it? What is wrong?"

"Father," Elladan replied with an ashen face. "The child's stopped breathing…."

I hoped everyone liked it. As always I want to thank all my advid readers and I'm sorry I don't have the time to thank you all personally. It is your reviews that keep me going when my resolve fails. This story would not be possible without you.


	7. Chapter Six: Hope Enough to Trust

A/N: Here it is all the next chapter.

As always I am sorry for making you wait a good chunk of eternity for this next chapter. I've been captured by orcs for the last six months and finally got rescued by Legolas and Aragorn. Okay so I was captured for like a day and spend the rest 5 and a half months hanging out with Legolas and Aragorn on a deserted island. Come on you all know you'd be doing it too.

Ouch…Legolas just threw an apple at me. "That's it Legolas. Next time you can hang out in someone else's fantasy so there. And who is totally excited about the next pirates of the carribbean movie coming out next summer? And the next Harry Potter movie in like 2 weeks and The chronicles of Narnia. I swear this summer we had all these weak stupid movies and now all the awesome ones are coming out.

That was totally off subject, but that's okay I'm feeling kinda manic cause it's about 1 in the morning and I am exhausted (and this is mostly concerning because I don't have a bipolar disorder.). And I'm currently doing my nursing clinicals at a mental health hospital so I keep thinking about mental health disorders and stuff.

So anyway…

I hope you find it worth the wait and I apologize if it was disappointing. I tried to keep it exciting and defiantly high anxiety.

I was in a little rush to try and finish it tonight so I didn't re-read so please forgive mistakes. And I know elhoir is spelled wrong. I always spell it incorrectly because that's how I end up sounding it out when I type it out. Hopefully someday I will remember how to spell it correctly. I know there are huge errors in this but hopefully it will be interesting enough that those won't take away from it too terribly.

I also want to thank all those who have continued to support me and encouraging. I would also like to thank Viggomaniac for suggesting me to a LOFTR mailing group and Kathleen who is my number one fan. And all the little people…no I'm kidding. Without you all I would never have the determination or motivation to keep writing. You keep me sane and you keep me writing so thanks to all of you….Aragorn and Legolas would thank you too, but they are currently chained up in my basement. So Read and Enjoy.

Chapter Six: Hope Enough to Trust

Into your head, into your mind  
out of your soul, race through your veins  
You can escape, you can escape.  
(Aly & AJ)

"Quickly this way." Legolas replied leading them into the healing ward.

Elrond and the twins followed quickly after, Elladan caring his unresponsive burden.

"Lay him on the bed my son." Elrond commanded as he began to sort through his healing bag.

"Elhoir please get me some water. Legolas I could use some bandages."

The room erupted into organized chaos as each of the elves formed a unified front in their attempts to save the young human's life.

Elrond hastily cut away the boy's remaining clothes and was distressed to see his chest no longer rose and fell. The elf lord placed his ear against the human's chest, but the heart remained stubbornly silent.

"We have no time." Elrond replied worry evident in his voice. The boy's lips were starting to turn blue and his skin was much too pale. "Elladan I need your help."

"Yes father. Can you help him?" Elladan asked fearfully.

"I will do all that is in my power to keep the boy with us. I need you to breath for him. I while compress his chest to help his heart beat."

The two elves worked in a steady rhythm each intent upon their task. Nothing else mattered, but the too still figure before them.

Elrond allowed a smile stream of healing energy to flow through his hands into his young patient, praying silently to the Valar that it would be enough.

After a few tense moments Elrond sighed in relief as he felt the boy's chest rising and falling on its own.

"You can stop my son." The elf lord replied with silent relief. "He is breathing again and his heart once more beats."

"Will he live?" Legolas asked quietly from the corner of the room where he watched desperately for any sign of life from his young friend.

"I do not know your highness. His injuries are grievous. He has lost much blood, He has two arrow wounds, his wrist is broken, and he has been gravely neglected. He is severely dehydrated and looks as though he hasn't eaten in several days. He simply has no energy left and perhaps no longer a will to live. He suffered more than anyone aught and I fear his spirit may be irreparably broken.

"It is all my fault." Legolas whispered mournfully. "I am to blame for what has happened."

"What do you mean?" Elladan asked dangerously. He and Elhoir stood protectively over their small charge staring threateningly at the young elf prince. "What have you to do with this?"

"He…he came to me for help and…and I turned him away." Legolas dropped his eyes unable to maintain eye contact. "I knew he was ill cared for and I did nothing. I…I could have prevented this. His blood is on my hands." Legolas replied guiltily.

Elladan and Elhoir glared darkly at the prince prepared to repay blood with blood.

"My sons enough. Go help the young one. I must speak to the prince a moment."

The twins hesitated a moment caught between helping their young charge and defending him.

"Go." Elrond repeated a bit more forcefully. "The child needs his wounds tended to if he is to last the night. I will be there to help in a moment."

"This is not over prince." Elladan said brusquely.

The twins nodded slightly to Lord Elrond and turned back to their young patient, working in silent tandem to bandage the young child's wounds, pointedly ignoring the room's other two members.

Elrond approached the young elf prince. Legolas bowed his head slightly waiting to be berated or perhaps even beaten. He did not move waiting patiently for the physical or verbally blows to fall. He deserved either or both for what he had done. Sadly there was no greater punishment that the elf lord could inflict that came close to comparing to his own mental anguish and shame at seeing young Estel so close to death's door.

"Prince Legolas."

"Yes Lord Elrond." Legolas replied quietly. He flinched slightly as the elf lord's hand rested on his shoulder.

"It was not your fault. You could not have foreseen this and I do not believe you would have allowed it had you known." The elf lord replied compassionately.

Legolas looked up forlornly at the elf lord. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I can see your heart. You care for the boy deeply and I believe you would die to protect him." Elrond replied.

"I…I don't know." Legolas said with worry in his eyes.

"Oh I think you do." Elrond smiled weakly. "You just don't want to admit it yet. You should go and get some rest. The boy is stable for now and I will let you know if anything changes. There is really nothing you can do for him now…his life is in the Valar's hands."

"Yes Lord Elrond. I will do as you say. Please if you need anything let me know." Legolas replied as he cast one last look at the sleeping boy

"Do you think he will live?" Legolas asked quietly as he watched the steady rise and fall of the human's chest.

Elrond thought about the birthmark on the young boy's chest and looked at the prince with utter conviction in his eyes. "Yes I do. That boy has a great destiny ahead of him and I have a feeling the Valar has much here left for him to do. Middle Earth isn't through with him just yet." Elrond smiled encouragingly.

Legolas nodded once and made for the door.

"And Lord Elrond," The prince said as he turned back around. "Thank you for having faith in me." The prince left the room quickly embarrassed at being so personally when he barely knew Lord Elrond, and yet trusted completely in him. If anyone could save the boy it would be Lord Elrond.

Elrond watched bemused as the elf prince left. It seemed Mirkwood was indeed changing for the better and Elrond suspected it has all started with the meeting of a human slave boy and an elvish prince.

Into your life, into your dreams,  
Out of the dark, so light again.  
You can exclaim, you can exclaim.  
(Aly and AJ)

Estel slowly opened his eyes, but quickly closed them again, as a wave of pain pounded against his skull relentlessly. The light was too bright…it burned his eyes.

He whimpered softly at his body's reprimand and instinctively curled in on himself. He burrowed deep underneath the warm unfamiliar cloth that shrouded his frail body, for the covering blessedly blocked the light out from his sensitive eyes.

The young boy tucked his legs protectively under his chin and reached shakily up to his head trying to alleviate the hurt.

While the left arm compliantly rose to Estel's demands, the right arm seemed stubbornly locked in place. He tugged it again eliciting a wave of pain up the right side of his body. Unable to stifle a cry, young Estel buried his face inside the soft cushioning beneath him so that his cry became a scarcely heard muffled sound.

He did not know why he muffled his moans of pain…he only knew how important it was to be quiet. Noise was his enemy…noise would get him into trouble.

If only he could remember why? His mind was agonizingly slow to return to consciousness. And these constant stirrings of pain made it so difficult to concentrate.

Who was he?

Estelles…that was his name. No…No that didn't sound quite right. Estel…Yes Estel that is what he was called now.

And he was a slave…a despicable human who lived to serve the elves of Mirkwood.

But he did not wish to be a slave. He wanted to see the world.

He wanted to dream.

But no slaves did not travel and they most certainly did not dream. Dreaming hurt…not the body, but the soul.

Where was he now?

That question was not so easy to answer. He did not want to open his eyes again…it hurt to open his eyes. But how else would he know where he was?

Perhaps he was on his mat sleeping. Perhaps it was night time. So why couldn't he hear the other slaves. It was too quiet, no one was snoring, no one whimpering, no one restlessly moving about in their slumber.

Perhaps he was in the dark room with the cold chains. This made him shudder. He did not like the dark room. But no it was too bright here. But he couldn't move his right arm…something was binding it in place. So why was his other hand free then? Could he move his legs? He didn't want to find out. What if it hurt like moving his arm had?

And he couldn't feel the hard floor beneath him either. He had never felt anything like this before. It was soft…that was the right word wasn't it? He wasn't sure if he remembered soft correctly. His mother used to tell him how soft his skin felt. But this didn't feel like skin.

The texture was much more similar to cloth, but cloth was much coarser then this. At least the cloth he recalled was. But he had heard some of the house slaves say the cloth the masters wore was not coarse and rough, but almost as smooth as silk. But he didn't know what silk felt like either so he wasn't sure.

He suddenly felt anxious. Maybe he wasn't suppose to be here. Had he fallen asleep somewhere he shouldn't have? He needed to get up and away from here before he got in trouble. They would send for Firithgalad to punish him soon.

Firithgalad!

The words sent a wave of paralyzing terror through him. His breath came out in ragged gasps and he started to sweat profusely even though he suddenly felt very cold inside.

The elf guard had always frightened him before, but now he felt absolutely terrified.

He couldn't let Firithgalad find him. The elf guard wanted to kill him…had tried to kill him.

He started to shake uncontrollably, his pain only a dull throb to the insurmountable panic that overtook him.

Please don't let him find me. Estel prayed fervently to any Valar who would hear him.

The memories of the past few days started to play through his mind being relived in the moment of their remembrance.

He wept as he remember nana being knocked unconscious by the outraged elf guard. She had only been trying to protect him and now she must be dead. Dead like his parents. They had tried to protect him too and suffered for it.

Nana hadn't been dead when they left her…at least he didn't think she was. He would have felt it wouldn't he? His heart would feel emptier like it did when he thought about mama and papa.

But Firithgalad had threatened to punish her if he misbehaved while out in the forest. And he had misbehaved. He hit Firithgalad with the rock. He remembered the rock. It had made an angry red slash on the elf guards cheek. He would be furious with Estel now and punish nana for it.

Would he take her to the woods to?

Estel whimpered at the thought. He had brought suffering to everyone he had ever loved. And so he wept for a childhood he would never have, a family he had lost before he had ever known it left forever alone, for the constant fear, and for the sheer exhaustion of it all.

He didn't know how long he was lost in his silent misery before he heard the approaching voices, but they admittedly sent a fresh wave of alarm creeping up his spine.

Someone was coming!

He had to get away from this place….he had to hide before he was caught.

Estel slowly opened his swollen eyes against the blaring light. After a few eye wrenching moments the light became less painful and Estel allowed himself a sigh of relief.

He gently pulled the covering off afraid of damaging material as fine as this. He laid it delicately draped over the end of the bed making sure none of the beautiful covering brushed the floor. He rubbed the soft comforting material with secret longing, before the approaching voices pulled him from his reverie.

The voices were getting louder. He was running out of time!

He pushed his feet over the side of the bed without a second thought. Pain rushed up his left side. Estel grabbed his left thigh gritting his teeth against the burning pain. His left thigh was bandaged tightly and Estel remembered the arrow that had previously taken up residence there, a dire reminder he needed to make haste if he did not wish to suffer further mistreatment.

He gritted his teeth, blinking away tears of pan, as he slowly forced his left leg the rest of the way over the bed.

More than you land spinning around,  
Lifting your feet right off the ground,  
You can't believe this is happening now.

(Aly and AJ)

The boy gave himself a brief rest. He was breathing hard and pain seemed doomed to be a constant companion. He was so tried. That brief amount of movement had utterly fatigued him. How ever did he hope to escape if he could scarcely get a few feet before he collapsed from exhaustion. But he had no choice. He had to try. He couldn't just sit here and accept what awful torment lay in store for such a disobedient slave as himself.

Estel stood up on wobbly knees like some new born foe. He leaned heavily on his right leg. Dizziness created black spots in his eyes and he was forced to lean against the backboard of the bed lest he collapse then and there.

Through a disturbing ringing in his ears Estel realized the voices had finally reached his door. He had only seconds left before he was ultimately discovered.

Panic left Estel paralyzed with fear. There was simply no time left to hide. He would never make it to a closet or behind a curtain and attempting to sneak out the window would as surely be a death sentence as discovery. He was just too weak.

He was defenseless out here in the open for anyone to find him, most importantly Firithgalad. Perhaps the elf guard was one of the voices outside the door coming to exact his final revenge.

Esel broke off a frustrated sob lest he give himself away. He couldn't give up now…there was still hope that no one knew he was here. He could still escape…he had to.

He looked frantically around the room for somewhere to hide in the few moments he had left.

A laugh rang out behind the door. The knob slowly begin to turn. Estel watched with wide startled eyes. Time was up!

The young slave boy dropped to the floor and scurried frantically beneath the bed. It was painful maneuvering, but adrenaline and fear kept the boy from passing out. He succeeded at getting his entire body beneath the bed just as the door swung open. He scrounged into the darkest recesses of his hiding place watching fearfully from the shadows as two sets of boots entered the room.

The unnatural position was painful on the boy's wounds and he forcibly gritted his teeth against the scream rising in his throat. His breath was heavy from fear, fatigue, and pain and his heart beat a racket in his chest. His own fear would surely betray him. He waited in fearful anticipation begging his heart to be silent.

One pair of brown doe skin boots started to approach his hiding place.

He couldn't help but admire the beautiful leather fur-lined shoes. He had never seen such a marvelous pair of boots. He imagined how smooth they would fell under his touch.

Estel imagined wearing such fine boots, feeling the warm soft fur against his skin.

He had never owned shoes before, but if he ever were to own a pair of shoes he imagined they would look just like this.

Perhaps when he was older…sometimes the male slaves were sent on orc raids like his father and given boots as a sign of their status. Father had very fine boots. They were not so new and fine as these, but ever day when father would return from the hunt he would patiently stitch up the holes and wash off the dirt until the shoes looked nearly new again. But the other slaves had never had such nice boots. Dirt was permanently clumped to the smooth material and holes were left unmended in the heels. He'd often heard the men complain they were too small and caused their feet to cramp.

He remembered asking his mother about it once. Why his father's boots were so much nicer than the other slaves. She had told him that his father had his boots from when he was captured. There men had been born into slavery and were given old throw offs the elves no longer wanted. He didn't want a pair of thrown off shoes though.

No that would not be his fate. He would leave this place. And someday he would buy his own pair of boots. They would never get crusted over with dirt that stold their soft sheen or have holes in the heels that ruined the insulatory effect. And he would clean them every day just like his father had taught him and leave them by the fire each night to dry.

His imagination brought a smile to his lips and he briefly forgot about the imminent threat before him.

The beautiful boots were so close he could smell the warm familiar scent of leather. His hands itched to feel the soft leather against his skin and he could feel his hand slowly reaching out from beneath the bed. If he could just touch them once…

A shout of distress and anxiety rang out, like the roar of a wounded animal startling young Estel from his dreamy reverie. A bowl crashed to the ground shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces only inches from the young boy's reaching and as yet unnoticed hand. Estel felt a hot stream of liquid splash across his exposed flesh pulling a whimper from his lips as he jerked his hand back beneath the safety of the bed.

He cradled the injured appendage against him. Now both hands were useless…he had never felt so helpless. He curled up into a tight ball as tears of pain, fear, and shame again salted his face…praying silently to the Valar his cry of distress had not given him away, for he imagined discovery would only lead to a fatal end.

Can You feel it, can you feel it,  
Rushin' through your hair,  
Rushin' through your head,  
Can you feel it, can you feel it,

Don't let nobody tell you, your life is over,  
Be every color that you are,  
Into the rush now,  
You don't have to know how,  
Know it all before you'll try.

(Aly and AJ).

Elladan and Elhoir were talking and laughing cheerfully as they walked down the palace corridors, their dark moods lifted with the assurance that the young elfling would live.

The Perendill twins had kept constant vigil throughout the night along with their father Lord Elrond beside the young child's bedside, certain each breath would be his last. But the elfling was strong and had resolutely pulled through the long seemingly endless night.

And this morning as Elrond had examined the young boy, while his sons waited with baited breath, the elf lord turned to his sons with a smile reporting that the child's fever had broken in the night and his body was slowly beginning to heal.

Not even the visit of the Mirkwood prince could dampen the twins mood, as he tapped hesitantly on the door this morning requesting entrance.

Elladan felt a snarl of "No" rolling from his tongue as he opened the door, prepared to send the prince on his way, but after taking in the Mirkwood elf's rumpled appearance the words died on his lips.

Legolas had dark circles etched beneath his eyes as though he had not slept that night or perhaps many nights. He seemed to be wearing the clothes of yesterday, which were now wrinkled from use. And his face bore a lost hopeless expression as though expecting the harsh words that would deny him entrance and in the same breath reject him from their sight. The prince's sad innocence and obvious anxiety over the boy melted Elladan's hardened heart and he simply moved aside silently ushering the prince in.

Legolas bowed formally to the twin princes, but his eyes remained locked on the peacefully sleeping boy. He walked slowly, cautiously up to the bed as though approaching the dead. He gracefully eased his way upon the edge of the mattress, the boy perhaps finding some comfort in the presence edged closer, though remained peacefully asleep.

Legolas watched the boy silently, content to see the boy alive and while not well certainly much better than last night. Color had returned to the boys too pale cheeks and he seemed to be resting peacefully.

The prince gently brushed Estel's hair affectionately back from his young innocent face, eliciting a small smile from the boy…perhaps the boy was dreaming it was his mother near, but Legolas was pleased all the same that he could bring the boy some measure of joy if only unconsciously.

The twins stood guard, allowing the prince a measure of privacy with the young child, but watching to ensure no more harm befell the poor youngster. While the perendils could easily make out the prince's softly spoken words they tactfully kept their silence, pretending to hear nothing, as the prince exposed his heart to a young child he had grown to love.

"Forgive me Estel." Legolas whispered tenderly. "I know I have no right to ask, but I could not bear it should you grow to scorn me. I have failed you my friend. When you needed me most I turned my back on you. I sent you away when you practically begged me to let you stay. I might as well have plunged the arrow in your arm myself…I could be no less a monster than Firithgalad. I was such a fool…pretended to be so blind. I knew he hated you Estel, and still I sent you out to the wolves to…to die, Legolas wept bitterly. "You should never have had to suffer so cruelly.

The prince held Estel's hand tightly and as he wept silently over the sleeping child his naturally glow seemed to waver like a flickering flame.

Can You feel it, can you feel it,  
Rushin' through your hair,  
Rushin' through your head,  
Can you feel it, can you feel it,  
(Aly and AJ)

The twin's watched with silent awe as the prince's life energy flowed down his outstretched arm into the young human's. Similar to their father, Lord Elrond's healing trance.

It was a very rare ability, one even the prince's had very limited skill at, and one had to have a deep-seated connection to another person for the energy transfer to even be successful. The twins identically looks of awe quickly turned to anguish as the prince's naturally glow started to disappear. The prince was giving too much of himself, if he kept going he would die.

The twins looked at one another in worry. What could they do? It was nearly impossible for an outside force to interfere with a healing bond. They had watched their father heal many times, but he had always known when he had given enough. Lord Elrond had never exceeded him maximum energy supply. But the young prince was ruled by his emotions and probably didn't realize what he was doing at the moment anyway.

"Prince Legolas you must stop." Elhoir cried out.

You are giving too much energy…you will kill yourself." Elladan added.

Legolas remained oblivious to the twins pleas, lost in his own grief and sorry.

The twins watched helplessly as the prince's light started to flicker out. Legolas had become deathly pale in a considerably short period of time and his eyes were starting to dim. The prince no longer wept as though too weak for tears, but he still held resolutely on to the young boy as though the child were his lifeline, where in this case the child was taking his lifeline from him.

Lord Elrond hurriedly entered the room, brushing past the two startled twins as he made his way towards the bed, perhaps driven to the power he felt being expended. "Prince Legolas you will stop now!" Elrond demanded, his voice calm and forceful. Where the twins own pleas had fallen on deaf ears, lord Elrond had an authority about him that one could not ignore.

The prince's hand slipped limply to his side and his head dropped weakly over the young boy. The room hung in silence except for the prince's quick rasping breaths.

After a few moments the prince seemed to gather what strength remained to him and looked weakly up at the elf lord. "I…I feel so tired all of a sudden. What is happening to me?" Legolas asked in a quavering voice.

Elrond smiled reassuringly. "It seems young prince that you just performed an energy transfer bond."

"A what?" Legolas shook his head in confusion.

"You gave the young one here some of your life energy, but you over did it a bit.

"Estel…is Estel okay." Legolas jerked quickly around to look at the young human sleeping peacefully, his skin tone looking considerably less pale. The prince felt a wave of dizziness nearly send him crashing to the floor, but a strong pair of arms caught him leaning his spinning head against a warm solid chest.

"Estel is that his name? Hope…how very appropriate." Elrond smiled as though knowing some secret significance. "'Estel is quite well young prince and do to your help it is a certainty that he should recover. You however nearly ended your life in middle earth. You were quite prepared to give every ounce of energy you possessed to help young Estel."

"But how?" Legolas looked even more confused at the elf lord's explanation. "I don't understand what is going on."

"You are tired. Come Prince Legolas you need to rest. You have overexerted yourself more than enough for one day. I'll explain everything later once you've rested." Elrond helped Legolas to get to his feet and gently prodded him towards the door.

"Thank you Prince Legolas…for your help." Elladan replied finding new respect for the elf prince. He had been willing to give his life for their young charge, the greatest sign of compassion.

" I imagine prince Legolas is getting the regular mother hen treatment at the moment." Elhoir replied apparently reliving the same memories.

"Well better him than us brother." The elder twin replied.

Elhoir laughed at his brother's joke and tried to juggle the tray of hot soup he had brought for the young Estel and open the door at the same time.

After a few exasperating moments of trying to turn the knob without also spilling the scalding broth all over him, Elhoir turned in frustration towards his patiently waiting brother who's eyes were twinkling just a little too brightly as he watched his brother's predicament.

"Brother, perhaps you would be so kind as to offer your assistance." Elhoir groused.

"Why I thought you would never ask. It would be my pleasure." Elladan smiled smugly as he opened the door and bowed with a flourish as he ushered his brother into the room. "After you your majesty."

"At least one of us acts are station." Elhoir ground out as he entered the room fighting to keep a smirk off his face at his brothers affronted expression.

Elhoir's merriment quickly died as he took in the empty bed. Elhoir looked frantically around the room, but the child was no where. The room was abysmally empty.

Elladan following close behind his brother rammed into the younger elf lord upon Elhoir's abrupt stop sending soup and all crashing with a distinct shattering.

The noise seemed to drive the paralysis from Elhoir's limbs and he turned to his brother with a glare.

"Now look what you've done clumsy elf. Look at this mess. Can't you watch where your going?" Elhoir muttered.

"I'm clumsy! You're the one who dropped it. And how was I suppose to know you were just going to stop without warning. Why don't you watch where your stopping. What's up with you anyway. You looked like you lost your senses brother." Elladan replied.

Elhoir turned his glare from his brother and again quickly scanned the room, but the results were still depressingly the same. The boy was gone.

"Haven't you noticed anything odd Elladan? Perhaps that the room is minus one person."

Elladan moved past his brother and realized what had alarmed Elhoir enough to stop him in his tracks.

"Estel is missing." Elladan replied is shock.

"Thank you lord obvious." Elhoir muttered allowing his fear and anxiety to make him irritable.

"Where do you think he's gone? We have to find him. He's not healed enough yet he could hurt himself worse." Elladan replied as panic started to overtake him. He could not allow the boy to be harmed. He had vowed to protect the child and that was exactly what he intended to do.

"How am I suppose to know where he has gone. I am no psychic brother." Elhoir snapped his own anxiety making a normal sweet kind hearted elf into an angry tiger protecting his cubs.

"What….what if that elf took him." Elladan whispered in distress as he imagined all the boy might be going through now. Was the boy even now being tortured by that orc in elf's clothing? Was he dead?

Elhoir took in his brother's own distress and instantly his annoyance with Elladan faded away. He laid his hand gentle on his brother's shoulder sharing his fear and his horror on what might have become of their beloved charge.

"We will find him Elladan…I promise you. And if anyone has hurt him we will make them pay for the injustice in blood."

"Hush" Elladan muttered. "I heard something.

Elhoir scowled at his brother, but complied with Elladan's demand. The younger elf lord perked up his ears straining to hear what had drawn his brother's attention.

A low whimpering sound seemed to be going from the bed.

Elhoir turned confused eyes on Elladan What trickery was this. It was obvious that the bed was empty.

Elladan pointed downward and realization dawned. Someone or something was under the bed.

Surely it was Estel, but why in middle Earth was he under the bed?

Elladan was smiling in relief and walking slowly towards the other side of the bed. His eyes were twinkling with mischief.

"Oh brother I wander where that elfling has gotten to. I don't see him anyway. And the cook said she was making some nice warm hot cookies for supper tonight. I guess we'll have to eat them all ourselves." Elladan looked positively malicious. He had himself positioned on the other side of the bed now.

Elhoir allowed his own mischief to take over as he followed suit and approached the opposite side of the bed. It seemed young Estel was about to get a good scare.

"Yes I suppose your right brother." Elhoir replied. "It really is a shame though I imagine Estel will be sorry to have missed it."

At his brother's signal both elves dropped down shouting "boo" at the exact same time.

Young Estel curled tightly into himself shivering in the terror of discovery. He whimpered softly as he tried to push himself further into the shadows underneath the bed, trying not to look at the two maliciously gleeful elves.

They had taunted him with promises of cookies that they knew slaves were not allowed to have. He had not had something sweet since the day his parent's died along with his hope and his happiness.

And now he would join them. There was no escape. He was surrounding by two identical malevolent faces, wallowing in his despair.

He berated himself bitterly for the wet hot tears that burned his cheeks. He would die now. All he had been through all he had suffered for was for nothing. He was a fool to think he could possible be free…he was powerless, a slave who's only worth was in his ability to obey and do what was commanded of him by his masters.

And since he was no good at obeying or following commands, his only use now was to die, giving his master's as much pleasure in the process as his stricken screams were able.

He couldn't stop trembling as he imagined Firithgalad gleaming down at him with his skinning knife pressed against the young boy's throat. Laughing at the boy's frantic pleas and hopeless screams.

"Come out Estel. It was only a joke. I'm sorry we scared you." Elladan called smiling, oblivious to the boy's true cause of distress.

Had Firithgalad sent these two to bring him back? How else would they know his name, he had never told them. But know these two had distracted the irate elf guard, if they hadn't ridden up when they did he would be dead now…his body left for the orcs to eat.

He wanted to believe they were here to help him, but what if he was wrong?

"Come now Estel. You can't stay under there all day. You might open up your wounds again. Ada would be furious with us if we let you hurt yourself. Don't make us come under there to get you." Elhoir replied concern stating to sink into his voice. Estel was too silent…too sullen. This was not the behavior of a child playing a prank. He had been hiding because he was afraid.

"Pl…please don't hurt him." Estel whispered hoarsely.

"Hurt you." Elladan replied in shock. "We would never harm you young one. We are here to help you. Don't you remember we found you in the forest. Our ada fixed up your wounds and we brought you back here. We nearly thought we'd lost you, but your stubborn like Elhoir over there and your fever broke."

"Hey!" Elhoir protested indignantly. "Your more stubborn then me. Remember that time you went in that bear cave even though I told you not to…"

"That's not the issue brother. Why must you always get off subject?" Elladan replied hastily before Elhoir could finish that highly embarrassing story. He had nearly found himself the dinner of a very hungry bear. "Now please Estel come out. We brought you some food."

"Did F…Firithgalad send you?" Estel asked warily.

"Firithgalad! No of course not. I'll wring that elves neck with my bare hands if I ever see him again. I promise you Estel he will not hurt you again." Elladan replied vehemently.

Estel flinched away from the elf's angry reply.

"It's okay Estel. Elladan is not angry at you, but the elf who hurt you. Please young one don't be afraid….we would sooner take the heart from our chests than lay a hand against you. I swear it by the Valar himself." Elhoir replied soothingly. Imploring the young boy to trust him even though Estel scarcely knew them.

Estel looked at the two elves indecisively. How he wished everything could be like it use to be when his mother and father still lived. It was by far not the happiest child hood, but they had always protected him and made him feel safe. Everything had been so much easier then. But now he was alone, there was no one left to protect him, but these elves had made the offer.

But could he trust him? Would they hurt him like so many others had before them.

Estel allowed himself a sigh. He really had no choice anyway. They obviously had no intention of leaving and were more than capable of waiting him out. They might take him out by force if he didn't comply soon anyway, and they might be less pleasant about it then. There was no reason to create greater animosity. Didn't he have enough people angry at him already without adding more enemies. After all you could only be killed once.

And perhaps he had hope enough to trust once more.

Estel bowed his head in defeat and slowly dragged his protesting body from beneath the bed. Everything hurt and he hissed with pain as each individual wound made itself known.

Estel tensed as he felt a strong pair of hands help pull him from beneath the bed. He was completely at the mercy of these strange elves. They could do whatever they wanted with him and no one would make a fuss, not even nana, after all she had a husband to protect.

As Estel cleared the bed he blinked his eyes against the bright light dropping them submissively.

They might not be working with Firithgalad, but surely they would still punish him for laying on the bed and for his insubordination. Being kicked a few times wouldn't be so bad, so long as they didn't take him back to the dark room…how he loathed that cold, empty, hopeless room.

"Look at me Estel." 'Elladan commanded lifting the boy's chin gently upward. "What happened? Why were you underneath the bed? What happened while we were gone…did somebody try to hurt you?"

"I…I swear I don't know how I got on the bed. I know I wasn't suppose to be up there." Estel blurted out. "I woke up and I was here. Please don't tell Rovan. I'll be good. I swear I'll do what I'm told. Please" Estel turned frightened pleading eyes on two identically astonished faces.

"What do you mean Estel?" Elladan asked in confusion. "We put you in here."

"Y…you did this." Estel asked in disbelief his eyes shining with betrayal. He pulled away from the elf lord's touch. The young slave turned his eyes downward least the tears threatening to leak out gained purchase from the sight of his betrayers. Why would they intentionally try to get him into trouble. They said they were here to help him, promised to protect him. "Why…why are you doing this to me?" He whispered mournfully.

Elhoir gazed at the young child with hurt in his eyes. It was painful to see the boy pull away from him physically as well as emotionally. "Estel I don't understand. Why are you upset? You were hurt. The prince told us to bring you here. Have we done something wrong?"

"Legolas…Legolas told you to bring me here?" Estel asked hopefully. If Legolas said it was okay than everything was alright. Legolas would never hurt him…never betray him. He had seen into the prince's heart and knew that it was pure.

Estel bowed his head no longer out of subservience, but shame. He loathed to face the two elves hurt. They had been nothing, but kind to him. Without them he would most assuredly be dead by now. And all he gave them in return was distrust. A very fine show of gratitude.

"Forgive me. My distrust is uncalled for. You have been kind to me and my gratitude is ill given. I owe you my life, a debt not easily repaid."

Elladan gently lifted the boy's down turned chin and smiled reassuringly. "There is nothing to forgive young one. You have every right to be wary. We are strangers to you. And you have been through much hardship. I only hope you will earn your trust and friendship in the future young Estel."

Estel smiled weakly, a little surprised he still had the ability. "I would be honored to be numbered among your friends. You have done more than enough to earn my trust and my gratitude. And I pray I might someday repay your kindness in kind."

A silence fell over the room as a deep understanding and friendship grew between the three beings. A moment in time that while seemingly insignificant would someday mean the redemption of middle earth and the survival of more than one race.

"Well enough of this. You my young elfling need to have those wounds tended to. No doubt all this moving around under beds and what not has ruined all father's hard work. And I'm sure we'll never here the end of it either. And if I'm not mistaking it looks as though you have some how hurt your other hand as well" Elhoir scolded, smiling to gentle the rebuke.

"Elfling?" Estel thought worriedly. What were they talking about. Surely they knew he was no elfling. Perhaps Elhoir had misspoken. Estel feared to share his identity…feared the rejection and revulsion that came with finding out they were associating so intimately with a lowly human, a slave that was of less important then the mud upon their boots. Estel did not wish to lose the newly formed friendships he had made and so he remained silently praying to the Valar the elf twins already knew or would never find out his deception.

Estel smiled sheepishly as he allowed the elf lords to flock over his injuries like a gaggle of gees. "I'm okay. It's really not so bad as it seems."

The eldest elf clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Not as bad as it seems. Young one I'm not sure if there is a square inch of your body that isn't either burned, bruised, or swollen. And it's not hard to mistake the winces you keep making every time you move. I'm not sure it could get much work as a matter of fact."

"We of course are to blame for the burnt hand I'm afraid. A certain clumsy brother of mine rammed right in to me and your lunch it seems is now decorating the floor." Elhoir added.

"And I must apologize for a clumsy brother who has the reflexive skills of a 5 year old." Elladan added looking at his brother snidely.

Elladan continued to check the young boy's various wounds and was pleased to see they had not reopened with all the activity. He felt the young child's head and was dismayed to feel that it was slightly warm. "It feels like you are starting to get a fever again, I fear those arrows might have been poisoned, but father was certain they hadn't been. Perhaps we've over looked something. It's unnaturally for an elf to feel this warm. And you aren't even glowing a little bit. I thought surely once you had rested it would come back. I think I should get ada Ro, something just isn't right."

"No I'm alright." Estel replied hastily. A thorough inspection would surely reveal him for what he truly was. "I just need a little rest. I should go back to my room."

"So you live here in the palace?" Elhoir inquired curiously. "We didn't have the opportunity to find out from the prince when he visited this morning. Your ada and Nana have not come by yet…I thought the prince would have told them, but perhaps he has forgotten."

"I…I don't have any parents. They…they died when I was small." Estel replied turning his face away as sadness washed over him. The pain still seemed so unbearable as he remained his mother's musical voice and his father's hearty laughter."

"I'm sorry young one. Our mother died when we were elflings ourselves. I understand your pain." Elhoir replied compassionately. His own eyes now reflected a similar sadness as he was reminded of his own mother.

Elladan brushed the young boy's hair gently from his face and gasped slightly as his hand rubbed against a perfectly rounded ear.

"Your human." Elladan breathed out in surprise.

Elhoir's head jerked up in shock as he processed his brother's words.

He followed his brother's gaze and both looked questioningly upon the cowering form of the young human boy.

Elhoir gently shifted the boy's hair exposing a small beautifully circular ear. "No wonder he doesn't glow." The younger elf lord thought in amazement. He had seen a few humans before in his life time, rather Elhoir was amazed that he could not have realized the truth. The boy did however look remarkably like an elfling. He was lithe of form, graceful in his movements. But his hair was dark, that in itself should have been a dead giveaway. A dark haired elf was quite common in Rivendell, but a near rarity in Mirkwood.

Estel forced his aching body to kneel and bowed down to the two elf lords, laying his feverish head against the carpet. "Forgive me masters." Estel said forlornly imagining the loss of his two new friends. "I accept punishment for my actions." He had been exposed and now they would surely despise him….if they didn't do worse to him. His body tensed expecting the sharp pain of a kick in his side of a rough blow to the head for his deception or perhaps they would just decide to slit his throat and be done with it. Impersonating an elf was a crime considered nearly as bad as murder and punishable by death of the worst kind.

Estel shuddered as he remembered the stories of human's being beaten to death for such an affront. And while his had not been entirely intentional the results would still be the same, but worse because the deed would be carried out by those he had finally come to trust.

"Get up from there." Elhoir demanded sharply, horrified at the boy's prostration.

Estel flinched at the elf lord's harsh tone, but quickly complied, but remained kneeling with his head downcast awaiting punishment, submissively.

"Where do you live Estel?" Elladan asked quietly.

"I…in the palace master."

"Where in the palace." Elladan asked afraid he already knew the answer.

"I…in the slave quarters, master." Estel whispered, his face burning with shame.

Elladan and Elhoir exchanged looks of pity and sadness for this child who seemed destine to suffer much and vowed in that same look that their young companion would be a slave only so long as it took for them to leave this place and take him with them. They would not leave him here to be treated so cruelly, even if they had to take on every guard in Mirkwood to achieve it.

"Why didn't you tell us Estel." Elhoir asked his voice more gentle. He laid his hand softly on the boy's shoulder causing the child to flinch away from the contact.

"I…I'm sorry. I thought you knew at first…and then you called me an elfling and you were so nice to me and I'm so lonely. You wanted to be my friends and I didn't want you to despise me. Please have mercy masters, kill me quickly." Estel choked out as tears clogged his throat. He was afraid to die, but even more afraid of their rejection.

Elladan lifted the boy's head up wiping the tears tenderly from the boy's cheeks, forcing the young slave to look him in the eyes. There was no rejection there only compassion. "We are not your masters Estel. I am the same person I was a few minutes ago and you are the same person you were a few minutes ago as well. Nothing need change between us. The vows we made are not weakened by a change of race. You are still our friend and we would still die to protect you. You may not be a brother by blood you are a brother of the heart, and that's just as strong as blood in all the ways that matter."

Don't let nobody tell you,  
Don't let nobody tell you,  
Don't let nobody tell you your life is over,  
Be every color that you are,  
Into the rush now,  
You don't have to know how,  
Know it all before you'll try.

.

(Aly and AJ)

Elladan had not realized what he was going to say until he had said it, but the words felt right. And he could feel that his brother more than agreed with him. This young orphan had become a brother as dear to him as Elhoir. He couldn't explain, but their was a connection between them, that could not be broken, a connection beyond their power to understand or explain.

Estel looked at the twins with wonder in his eyes that he could be so unconditionally accepted. He could see it in their eyes that they didn't care that he was human, and a slave. They didn't see him as less for it, only different. "Thank you." Estel smiled hesitantly. "For being my friends."

"You never have to thank a friend for caring about you." Elhoir returned the smile. "That's what friends do."

"Now back to bed with you. If ada ever finds out how long you've been out of bed he'll have our heads." Elhoir said as he slowly helped Estel to his feet.

Estel moaned softly as he took a step towards the bed and pain erupted up his injured leg.

Elladan came up behind him scooping the young boy into arms.

"I can walk." Estel protested half-heartedly. His face was flushed with exertion and embarrassment that his weakness was so apparent.

"I know." Elladan winked at him conspirationally. "But Ada would be displeased with me if your wounds reopened."

Estel smiled with gratitude and relaxed back into the older elf's strong arms allowing himself to fall into a slight stupor as sleep started to gnaw at his consciousness.

Elladan smoothly laid him in the soft bed, covering him up lovingly. "Sleep young one. We will go get you some fresh bandages and something to eat. Rest you are safe." Elladan tenderly rubbed his hand through the drowsing child's hair smiling affectionately. Elhoir followed suit grinning at his new little brother. Both kept silent vigil till the boy had drifted off into peaceful dreams before closing the door gently behind them.

"Do you think ada will be pleased about the new addition to the family?" Elladan asked jokingly as the twins wandered down the hallway.

Unbeknownst to the twins a shadow parted from the wall slipping lithely past their awareness and slipped into the room they had just left.

A glint of light reflected off a gleaming metal knife that slid smoothly from the shadow's belt sheath. The shadows eyes glinted with madness as he stared psychotically down at the peacefully sleeping child.

The shadow smiled with pleasure as the boy sensing the

malevolence in the room started to squirm uncomfortable in his dreams.

The shadow bent towards the sleeping child, enjoying how the close content caused the boy to unconsciously tremble in fear. "My little slave. Your all mine now. It's time you learned real fear." The voice whispered possessively as he placed the sharp metal edge of his knife against the fragile flesh of the young boy's throat.

A small frightened pair of silver eyes snapped open as the words stirred dark memories.

The young boy awoke to his greatest nightmare…the shadows resolved into Firithgalad.

It takes you to another place,  
imagine everything you can.  
All the colors start to blend,  
The system overloads again

(Aly and AJ)

A/N: There you have chapter six. I hope you all liked it and it wasn't too cheesy and that the cliff hanger doesn't drive you absolutely crazy. I tried to keep it entrance and I hope it has good flow to it. As always I want to thank all of the wonderful people who sent reviews and checked on my throughout my long absences. It means a lot when you haven't written in 6 months and you have people still showing interest in your stories and I hope this chapter was worth the wait. I will try to hopefully have the next chapter by Christmas. I wish I could promise it sooner, but school tends to keep me extremely busy and I seldom seem to have time to really give it the attention it deserves. Thanks again to all my faithful readers and I hope you share your thoughts and feelings on how you think this chapter went. And just to give you a few little sneak peaks the next chapter is going to have some Estel/ Firthgalad interaction (no not slash) and let's just say it's not going to be a friendly conversation.


	8. Chapter Seven: Gift From The Valor

A/N: Hey all I'm back! I want to thank all the great people who have stuck by me these last four years waiting, praying, and threatening for another chapter. And back by popular demand here it is. I hope it was worth the wait. And yes I know my grammer and spelling are still atrocious, but please try to excuse these the best you can. Thanks you all for continuing to support me and offer your wonderful feedback. I even had someone make a comment a few days ago even though I haven't added anything new to this story in forever. How can I feel anymore appreciated then knowing you guys still love this story. I hope this next chapter lives up to expectations and I will try my best to start working on the next one soon.

Chapter Seven: Gifts From The Valor

Estel's eyes snapped open upon hearing a voice that had long been imprinted on his nightmares. It only took a few seconds of mind-panicked fear before Estel felt something sharp poking into his vulnerable neck flesh.

The young boy's breathe hitched, fearful to breathe lest the elf guard's knife scrape against his sensitive skin.

Estel gripped the sheets beneath him in tightened fists as he waited in dreaded expectation for the sharpened dagger to find its way unerringly acrossed his neck. The boy could already feel the burning fire upon his neck and smell the iron tinged blood welling up against his skin as though waiting to be freed from its vascular prison.

The slave boy, while waiting for his ultimate death, couldn't help but think how sad it would be to ruin such fine bed sheets with his lifeblood staining the beautiful cloths.

Estel closed his eyes feeling like a sheep to the slaughter, but refused for his last imagine in life to be that of the elf who had caused him so many torments and hardships. Rather the child imagined the smiling faces of his new friends Elladan, Elrohir, and even Lord Elrond. And of course prince Legolas, whom while he had known the elf prince all his life had never been considered a friend until recently. How he would miss them all. But far better he should die than for Firithgalad to take his vengeance out upon the people Estel most valued.

Nana had already suffered for trying to protect him. Estel didn't even know if she was still alive. Either way her blood was an open wound upon his soul, a reminder of how he was a plague upon all those he cared for. Like the parents whom he had barely known before causing their untimely death. It may have been orcs who bore the weapons, but it had been because of Estel they had died. The young boy considered himself solely responsible for his parents deaths and it had haunted his aching soul ever since.

As Estel wallowed in his own misery he felt the knife jab slightly deeper into his throat. The slave boy could feel a single drop of blood traveled leisurely down his neck. The boy whimpered at the unexpected pain having to clamp down on the instinct to jerk his neck in reaction. The dagger made no further move as though just a coming attraction of things to come.

Estel could feel panic rising like a wave in his chest stealing his breath while speeding up his heart. Sweat mingled with blood making Estel feel nauseous. He was afraid. No matter how many times he begged for death he was afraid to die. He had not lived a good life. All his life he had been told how bad and useless he was. Surely the valar would have no use for one such as him. What would become of his soul? Mandos would never welcome him into the great lords hall. The boy could not prevent a single tear from leaking down his cheek.

Firithgalad prodded the useless slave with his dagger, pleased to hear a small whimper of terror, some response from the boy. The elf guard couldn't help, but be annoyed at the boy's uncommon behavior. Other than the brief moment of terror that had come acrossed the boy's face upon waking to discover Firithgald standing over him, the slave had gone as tense as stone. No screaming. No crying. Not even shaking. After the child closed his eyes he could have been all, but invisible for the notice he was given. How dare this slave insult him so. The child would vex him till it's last worthless breathe. The sheer gaul, the very arrogance of it almost sent the elf guard into a rage. He jerked his dagger roughly into the boys skin eliciting that sweet sound of terror. No the boy was not as oblivious as he pretended. Firithgald took a few calming breaths as an ugly sneer of satisfaction distorted an otherwise beautiful face. He must not let his anger control him. It was only ruin the pleasure of having this useless slave at his mercy. It has been too long since he had last heard this boys sweet cries of pain, tasted the delicious ambrosia of his terror.

Alas if only he could take the child to do with as he would. If it had been any other slave his gratification would have been succored by now. But no this sneaky sniveling piece of mortal flesh had gained himself powerful allies in the prince, Lord Elrond, and his two bothersome sons. The elf guard dared not kill the boy, yet. Not while the boy's well being was so closely connected to him. No he had another purpose for this impromptu meeting. The boy's punishment would have to wait another day, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a little bit of fun first.

Firithgalad watched with gloating success as a single tear tracked its way down the boy's cheek, glistening in the candle light like a fallen star escaped from the sky. The elf guard couldn't resist collecting the escaping raindrop upon his finger and tasting the salty sweetness of the boy's despair. The boy flinched at the intimate contact bringing another burst of satisfaction to the elf guard's face. The boy's shocked shell was starting to crumble.

"Open your eyes slave and face your fate. Not only worthless, but it seems you are a coward as well." Firithgalad emphasized with another prod of the dagger. He watched in awed fascination as another drop of blood dripped down the boy's skin. Perhaps when the time came he would bleed the boy dry drop by drop.

He let his gaze travel upward and was pleased to find two terror filled eyes staring silently back at him. The pupils were large and dilated so that the green irises were hardly visible. The absolute anguish in those eyes pleased Firithgalad beyond measure.

"What boy no pleas for your life? No begging for mercy? You haven't even tried to scream for help yet. I am beginning to think you have come to like our little game." Firithgalad taunted.

"Would it make any difference?" Estel whispered hoarsely as emotion clogged his throat. "Will any amount of pleading stay your hand? Will begging spare my life? It never has before."

"Ah but there is a first time for everything. Perhaps I am feeling beneficent today." Firithgalad responded wickedly taking obvious pleasure in the boy's anxiety.

Estel eyed Firithgalad speculative his tongue rebelling against saying such demeaning words. Was Firithgalad right? Had he no courage at all that he would cry like a babe rather than face death stoically as his father had done.

He loathed giving Firithgalad the satisfaction of debasing himself. But he did not want to die. Why did it matter anyway? He had no pride left. He had already debased himself beyond measure. And his ever present optimism demanded he at least try.

"Please don't kill me." Estel uttered mournfully. Another piece of his spirit to be cracked away.

Firithgalad laughed in triumph letting the knife graze the boy's neck further in his excitement.

Air hissed through Estel's teeth at the unexpected sting. He wouldn't have much skin left on his neck if this went on much longer.

"Since you begged so sweetly I will spare your life…for now." Firithgalad taunted with a gleefully sinister look on his face.

Estel wore an expression of disbelief slowly replaced by a glimmer of hope.

Was the slave really so dense. Did he think it would be so easy. Firthgalad scoffed at this foolishness. The elf guard looked foreword to crushing the slave's optimism. To finally put the boy in his place.

"No I won't kill you for the moment. I have much bigger fish to fry. Elrond and his meddling sons need to be dealt with. They're trying to cause trouble for me and I can't have that." Firithgalad fingered his dagger meaningful as he spoke.

"No." Estel cried out.

Firthgalad's gleeful expression was replaced with a much darker look as he gripped Estel's neck tightly with his free hand.

The slave boy grabbed weakly onto the elf guards arm trying to futily dislodge his grip.

"Hush boy. You wouldn't want to draw someone's attention would you. Or perhaps it will be those meddlesome twins. I should very much like to teach them the error of their ways." Firithgalad cackled as he removed his hand and began sharpening his dagger on the bed jam. "Go ahead boy scream for help. Bring your brave heros to their doom.

Estel shook his head frantically as tears poured unchecked down his cheeks. He held his lips resolutely closed refusing to let even a hint of temptation weaken his resolve. Better he should die a slow and agonizing death than to lead his friends to a similar fate.

"How very noble you are Esteless. You don't want me to hurt your friends. I wonder how close mouthed you'd be if I offered a bit more incentive."

The elf guard grabbed Estel's good hand and made a slow deep cut across the palm of his hand. Blood began to bubble up from the slowly widening wound and drip in rivulets down the small boy's arm straining clothes and sheets alike.

The child gasped once at the unexpected pain and then bit his lip resolutely against crying out. He tried to pull his hand away, but the elf guard held on doggedly watching the rising blood with sickening fascination.

How easy it would be to scream for help. He could save himself further torment. Firithgalad would either be distracted by the arrival of his wound-be rescuers or would kill him quickly without continued torture.

Yet Estel dared not risk his friends. It would surely destroy what little spirit her had left should they be harmed on his account.

"Valar give me strength." Estel whispered under his breath. He was in for a long agonizing length of hours if the maniacal glint in Firithgalad's eyes were any indication.

"The Valar has no use for one such as you slave. You are less than an ant squished beneath his heel. No little Esteless you are all alone. No one to help you, no one to care. Do you think lord Elrond or his sons will give you even a passing thought once you are dead? You're merely a passing amusement to them.. Like a monkey in the circus they only wait for you to jump around for their entertainment. Prince Legolas has already lost interest in you. Haven't you wondered why he has not come to see you in all this time?

Estel shook his head frantically in denial. It wasn't true…it couldn't be true. They had said they were his friends. They wouldn't get tired of him so easily. Yet the young boy could not help feeling a grain of doubt that rubbed his already sensitive self-esteem. He already questioned the likelihood that an elf, and elf lords no less, could find anything in him worthy of friendship.

"What do you want of me?" Estel whispered in despair. The boy did not know how much more taunting he could take. He felt as though he was holding on to his sanity by the barest of threads as it was.

"Now that my little slave is what I've been waiting for you to ask." Firithgalad patted the boy's head as though he was a dog who had performed a new trick.

Estel jerked his head away causing the elf guard to break out into a string of laughter at the boy's continued persistence. Then in a move faster than the human eye could follow Firithgalad grabbed the boy's throat and applied just enough pressure to prevent only the barest of air to pass through the boy's windpipe.

Estel's eyes bulged out in fear and oxygen deprivation as he struggled weakly against the occlusive hold. Firithgalad looked truly mad in that moment as he brandished his dagger about in a threatening manner while he watched with avid interest as the boy struggled futily in his hold. Only a little tighter and one of his biggest problems would be dealt with. The temptation was almost staggering. But no! The sweetest reward came with patience. The boy would be his soon enough to do with as he wished. He must not become impatient or he would risk losing everything. No blame must fall on him. The boy had too many allies and his wounds were too fresh. If he killed the boy now the prince and rivendell minons might fall through his fingers. No they must all pay for the injustice he had suffered. His time would come and the boy would suffer all the more when he brought his friends to their deaths.

"You ask me what I want slave? What don't I want? I want to watch the life fade from your eyes as you breath your last breathe. I want to here you scream for mercy as I hold your life in the palm of my hands. I want to hear you call me master when you realize how insignificant you are. But for now I'll take your silence." Firithgalad paused dramatically. "You will tell no one what happened out in the forest. If anyone should ask you will tell them you tried to runaway that I was trying to stop you."

"And how am I to explain the arrow wounds?" Estel asked bitterly, realizing how very powerless he was.

"Why my dear human." Firithgalad smiled vilely as he patted the child's resisting cheek a bit harder than necessary leaving a red sting to the skin. "It is perfectly within my rights to bring down an unruly slave bent on escape. I was only doing my duty. Shooting you in the extremities was an act of beneficence on my part. After all I could have shot you straight through the heart had I chosen."

"Of course." Estel whispered as he turned his head away in disgust.

"It would not be out of the question if you wished to thank me for my mercy" Firithgalad replied with an evil glint in his eyes as he eyed the boy speculatively.

Thankyou. Thankyou for chasing me through the forest like an animal? You are a monster." Estel yelled in frustration. The stress was beginning to wear on him and he felt the limits of his tolerance starting to wear very thin.

Ah. Now Estel I would be careful how much you insult me." Firithgalad responded chidingly as he tapped the sharp end of his dagger against the boy's cheek. "You wouldn't want me to kill you now. If you force me to kill you now I'll have to kill all your friends as well. Is that what you want little Esteless. Shall I kill prince Legolas first? A trip down the stairs? Or perhaps I should start with those meddlesome twin trouble makers. I could make it look like an accident. Orcs coming upon them unawares. Such a tragedy." Firithgalad shook his head in mock sympathy enjoying the play of emotions streaming across the boy's face.

"No….NO." Estel shook his head in fearful denial. "Please no. I'll do what you say. Just leave me friends out of this, please. I will tell everyone it was my fault, that I was trying to runaway. I've tried so often that no one will believe any differently. Please I beg you none of my friends have to be hurt." The young slave entreated frantically.

"Now see Esteless that is a much more accommodating attitude. I'm glad we had this little chat u and I. It was very entertaining. The elf guard jerked his head up as though hearing something. "Ah it seems you are about to have some company. The great healing of Rivendell if my ears are not mistaken."

The elf guard slowly starting backing towards the balcony looking menacingly at the terrified young slave. "I trust you will remember what we've talked about slave. Should your lips get too loose I fear all the unfortunate accidents that could start happening around here. I imagine it would be best for everyone around if they just forgot all about u, if you know what I mean." On that note Firithgalad dropped gracefully and quietly from the balcony nary making a sound.

Estel lay trembling with fear as he finally started to hear the approaching footsteps. The young boy pulled the sheets up to his chin and curled up on his side, praying Firithgalad was mistaken and the footsteps would pass him by. The boy did not think he could bear anymore company at the moment, friendly or otherwise.

It seemed the dark twists of fate were not to be denied though as the doorknob started to turn admitting a regally attired elf lord carrying a tray of food.

"Ah Estel you are awake." The elf lord smiled as he met the wide eyes of his young patient.

The elf lords smile quickly went down hill as he took in the boys shaking huddled form upon the bed.

Lord Elrond quickly set down the food tray he was carrying on the night stand and walked towards the trembling boy. "Has your fever come back?" The elf lord asked worriedly.

Before the boy could even work up the gumption to respond the elf lord had already placed his hand upon the boys head and was checking his pulse.

"You don't feel hot, but your heart is pounding out of your chest." The elf lord said, his brow crinkled in confusion and concern.

"I'm okay I just had a nightmare." The boy whispered as he pulled his cut hand out of the elf lords grasp attempting to hide it beneath the cover.

But Elrond was not to be so easily deterred as his sharp eyes saw the slowly oozing cut on the boy's palm. The metallic scent of iron permeated the air and the elf lord using elven quickness grabbed the boy's quickly retreating wrist for further examination.

The boy couldn't prevent a gasp of surprise and no little fear from escaping as his already fraying nerves were unraveled further. Estel tried to pull away from the elf lords inspection, but Elrond's grip was firm and sure as he kept the boys hand in place before his inquiring gaze.

"I cut it." The boy said weakly in the awkwardly growing silence.

"Indeed," the elf lord responded." Looking suspiciously around the room for any sharp objection. "On What may I inquire? This looks exactly like a knife wound."

"On…..On the bedpost." Estel blurted out looking frantically around for some excuse for his injury.

The elf lord finally released the boy's arm. Estel gratefully tucked it under the sheets as the elf lord started to gaze intently at the bed post in question. The elf lords keen eyes took in the faint scratches on the wood that could only have come from a dagger point.

"Strange. This bed post doesn't seem sharp at all and there is no blood. Normally when one cuts themselves on something you would expect there to be some blood on the object in question."

Estel said nothing curling up fearfully on the bed. How could he possibly refute such logic? He dared not tell the elf lord the truth. He believed with all his heart that Firithgalad would harm his new friends should he tell them the truth and nothing was worth that.

"I shall be back in a moment. Elrond replied. "I need to get some dressing supplies for that hand injury lest it become infected. I shall ask Elladan to sit with you until my return. I do not want to risk you becoming further injured."

"Ye….yes master Elrond." The boy responded solemnly dropping his eyes in shame. The elf lord no longer trusted him. The healer was no doubt seeing the worthlessness in him that everyone else did. It hurt the boy to be forced to lie to the elf healer, to destroy the slim trust the elf lord had once had in him, but perhaps it was better this way. Firithgalad had hinted in no small part that Estel had best lose his new friends and quickly if he wished for their continued well being.

The boy gasped in surprise as the elf lord gently lifted his chin. Instead of the disgust and disapproval the boy had been expecting the elf lords eyes showed only understanding and compassion. "It is not you I do not trust Estel. Elrond's knowing gaze took in the small cut marks covering the boy's neck as well as the fading redness of his cheek. "And I am not your master. You may call me Elrond or lord Elrond if you must, but please never call me master."

"I only wish for your safety Estel." The elf lord continued as he rubbed the boy's head affectionately. I will be back in but a few moments.

The elf lord closed the door softly, knocking on the door next to Estel's. The elf lord was glad he had the foresight to place Elladans room right by the boy's though it seemed that it had been a futile effort in this case.

The elf lord fumed clenching his hands in anger as his mind returned to that first terrified picture of the boy as he had entered the room. He knew without a doubt that Firithgalad had surly paid the boy an unexpected and unwanted visit. The normally calm elf lord was tempted to slam his hand into the wall. How had Firithgalad gotten into the boy's room undetected? And most disturbingly why hadn't he killed the boy or at least attempted to?

None of the boy's injuries were even remotely life threatening. The elf lord was truly grateful the boy had not sustained greater injury, but still very confused at the elf guards intentions. The elf guard had made no qualms about killing the boy so what had stayed his hand now? It was almost as though Firithgalad had only come to torment the boy.

Elrond seethed at the elf guard tormenting an innocent child in such a way. Hadn't the boy already been through more than enough at the hands of this guard? The ruler of Rivendell silently promised himself the boy would not be harmed again. The child would be guarded 24 hours a day, with someone in the room at all times.

The elf lord knocked on his son's door waiting patiently for his son to answer. "Hello ada." A voice responded behind him.

Elrond turned with a start, surprised his two sons had been able to sneak up on him without the elf lord's keen ears catching their arrival. He could only attribute his lack of attention to the extreme worry he was feeling.

"Is something wrong ada?" Elrohir asked in concern mirroring his fathers thoughts. "It is almost impossible for us to catch you unawares and we weren't even trying this time."

"My sons I have something of grave importance to speak to you about?" The elf lord replied.

Both his sons eyed him attentively waiting for their father to impart his concerns.

"I just went in to check on estel."

"What's wrong with Estel father? Has his wounds become infected. Will he be alright." Elladan interrupted frantically. Elrond and his children had quickly become attached to the young mortal and were loath to think something had befallen him.

"Estel is as well as can be expected." The elf lord replied reassuring. "But I fear he has received an unexpected visitor in our absence."

"Firithgalad." Elladan growled his fists clenching in anger. "Just let me get my daggers and I will show that elf what we do with uninvited visitors.

"Did he hurt Estel?" Elrohir asked glancing fearfully at the boy's door.

"Only a few minor cuts. My biggest worry is Estel's mental state. The boy had already been through a traumatic ordeal and I fear the elf guards visit has only made it worst. And I fear we have no proof the elf guard was even there. Thus I have nothing to bring before the king."

"It's my fault ada. I should never have left." Elladan guiltily replied. "I only went to the kitchens for some breakfast. The boy was sleeping and I never imagined anyone would dare disturb him; especially Firithgalad. If anyone is to blame it is me. How shall Estel ever forgive me?"

"I do not blame you Elladan, either of you." Elrond responded looking at both his sons. The elf lord placed his arm comfortingly on his eldest's shoulder. "Even I did not expect Firithgalad would have the gall to disturb the boy any further. I fear this elf guard is more directed than I had initially believed. We must be much more wary in the future to ensure young Estel's safety. I do not want Firithgalad near the boy again. We will have someone watch the boy at all times from now on."

"Yes Ada." The twins replied solemnly.

"We will not fail him again." Elladan added.

"May we see him father?" Elrohir asked. "I would feel better knowing he was safe with my own eyes."

Elrond smiled. "That is actually why I had come looking for you. I needed to go get some bandages. It seems Estel has sustained a cut to his hand and I wanted to get some healing supplies to tend to him. I was loath to leave the boy alone even for a few minutes.

"We shall see to his safety until your return." Elladan answered promptly.

"Thankyou my sons. Before I go I must warn you when I questioned Estel about his new injury he claimed he had cut himself. I could see it for the obvious lie it was, but I fear Firithgalad has compelled him to lie. He is afraid and he needs our trust and understanding now more than ever."

"He is like a little brother, ada. We will see that he feels loved and well protected." Elladan promised as the two rivendell twins walked purposefully towards Estel's room.

Elrond smiled in satisfaction as he saw the protective way his sons had taken the young lonely boy into their family. He would have to tell them the boys identity soon.

As Elrond walked towards the healing wings he realized with a surprising start that while his sons now called the boy brother, Elrond was already starting to see Estel as a son as well.

Elladan knocked hesitantly on the door. It was so quiet inside that the Rivendell prince was instantly worried. Was Estel okay? Surely no further evil had befallen him in so short a time.

"Estel, may we come in?" Elrohir called politely.

Silence followed before a quiet "Yes." Came from behind the door. A hiccup followed this announcement as well as some hastily heard sniffles.

Elladan looked worriedly as his brother. Estel had been crying.

When the twins entered the room they could see estel turned away from the door curled up tightly in the middle of the bed. The child's shoulders shuddered with silently suppressed tears.

Rather than bothering further with words Elladan sat on the bed scooping the boy up gently into his lap, avoiding disturbing any of the boys injuries.

The boy initially tensed in Elladan's arms before accepting the comfort being offered. He buried his face in the Eldest twins shoulder and cried mournfully as though there were not enough tears in the world to express his grief.

Elrohir sat beside his brother rubbing soothing circles upon the boy's back as he wept his heart out.

"All will be way tithen pen. (little one)" Elladan whispered. "Do not be afraid. We will protect you from your demons."

Elladan's words seemed to make young Estel cry even harder. Elladan looked at his brother helpless unsure how to ease the young boys suffering.

Elrohir started to sing a sweet elvish lullaby he remembered from when he was an elfling.

Elladan soon joined in as his own memories returned to being rocked in his mothers arms while she sang this sweet refrain. Their voices created a beautiful harmony that filled the room with light and hope.

Estel's tears soon started to slow as the gentle melody lured the small boy into a peaceful and exhausted quiet. The boy could not yet bring himself to sleep, but rather wanted to cherish these last moments of comfort, peace , and safety he felt with his new friends before he was forced to turn them away.

The lullaby ended on a sweet note leaving a pleasant and restful silence in its wake. The three people in the room did not bother to break the silence with awkward words when the silence was so filling at this moment.

The silence was inevitable broken as Elladan whispered. "I am so sorry. Please forgive me for failing you."

Estel pushed up for the eldest Rivendell prince's chest and looked at him in confusion. What could Elladan be talking about? What did the prince have to apologize for, much less why would he be apologizing to a slave. It simply was unheard of. Slaves were always at fault if there was any fault to be had, not the other way around. Perhaps Elladan had been speaking to his brother.

Estel waited for Elrohir to respond, but the room remained filled with a baited silence. Estel turned to Elrohir expectantly. Why had he not offered his brother forgiveness? What had Elladan done to wrong his brother so?

"I also apologize. We never wished you to be hurt Estel. I promise you we will guard you with our lives. You shall not be hurt again."

They were talking to him? Estel's brows were furrowed in confusion. "Please do not apologize. I am just a slave…."

"Nay," Elladan interrupted vehemently. "You are no slave, you are our brother. Perhaps not in blood, but in heart there is no brother truer than you. Don't disparage yourself again."

Estel cringed away from the eldest twins angry rant trying to scrunch in on himself as though seeking to make a smaller target.

Elrohir gave his brother a chastising look as he took the frightened boy into his arms.

"You are frightening him Dan. You come to apologize and leave the boy thinking you are angry with him."

Elladan lowered his eyes in shame. "It seems I must apologize again young Estel. It was not my intention to frighten you. I have let me emotions get away with me. It saddens me to see you debase yourself so. Please forgive my hasty words Estel."

Estel sat awkwardly in Elrohir's arms uncertain what to say. He had been apologized to three times in the last 10 minutes, which also happened to be the first three times he had ever been apologized to in his life. The young slave did not know what to do in a situation such as this and was left in a state of utter bafflement. Why should calling himself a slave displeased Elladan so much anyway. He was a slave, it was a statement of fact. If he could change that by choosing to not be slave, didn't Elladan think he would have done so ages ago.

Estel was saved from having to respond by Elrond's this time, timely arrival with healing supplies galore. You would have thought he was coming to heal an army and not just one hurt young boy.

"Estel may I please your hand" Elrond inquired politely as he pulled up a stool to sit beside the boy.

The healer waited patiently for the boy to decide freely to give over his hand rather than forcing the boy. The child had been forced too much already in his life. It was time the boy was given the power of choice, he was the future king of men after all, if he knew it or not. The world would someday depend upon this boy and his ability to make decisions, a reminder that the twins would have to learn this boys secret soon.

Estel after hesitating a moment handing his cut hand over to the elf lord. Elrond was pleased to see the hand had almost completely stopped bleeding and was already starting to scab over. The healer wrapped a few atheleas into the boy's wound and covered it gently with a clean bandage.

As the elf lord worked he told the boy about the healing properties of atheleas and where to find them in the yard. Lord Elrond was pleased to see the boy attentively listening to his instruction. The boy would be an avid student no doubt if given the opportunity to learn.

"King Thranduil had expressed an interest in speaking with you today about the incident in the forest." Lord Elrond began delicately….estel shuddered at the reminder. "But I think under the circumstances it would be best if we postpone…."

"No." Estel interrupted. "no," He said more quietly, "We cannot keep the king waiting. It would be disrespectful."

"If you are certain?" Elrond asked unsurely. The elf lord couldn't see how after the ordeal the boy had just endured he could possibly be up to enduring the king's blunt and often intimidating manner.

"Yes, I would rather get it over with." Estel replied quickly and as firmly as his hoarse voice would allow. Best to get all of this over with, but his frayed nerves completely unraveled and he was left a pile of incoherent mush.

"Very well." Elrond replied. "I shall inform the king that we will be by to see him shortly as soon as you have been given a chance to eat, bath, and dress. I shall also speak to the king about having some new garments sent for you. Those rags you had before are not even fit to be rags anymore."

"Slaves are only allowed one pair of garments lord Elrond. We would only get them dirty and ruin them if we were given anything nicer." Estel looked at the elf lord worriedly fearful Elrond would bring about the king's displeasure in daring to ask for new garments.

"P…perhaps you could speak to Rohan, the slave master, about lending me a slave tunic until I can repair my own." Estel asked hopefully.

"Oh Estel I'm afraid your clothes are no more. We had to cut them to shreds when we treated you. I had them thrown in the fire when we we're done because they were simply not usable anymore." Elrond answered gently seeing the growing distress on the boys face.

"Oh…" Estel replied lowering his head in disappointment. Rohan would surely punish him for not caring for his garments properly. The young slave boy only hoped he would not have to endure the dark room again. Few things were worse then being chained in that cold dark place, alone and without hope. Estel shuddered at the thought unconsciously curling into himself more to starve off the imagined cold seeping into his bones.

"Do not worry young one. I will see to it that you are given new garments even if I have to make them myself." The elf lord teased gently as he rubbed the boys back soothingly.

"N…no I would not see you bothered on my account." Estel shook his head despairingly.

"Do not worry yourself further." Elrond replied kindly, but firmly. " It is not a bother to me. You are dear to me and I would see you well cared for because it pleases me do so. Now come eat your breakfast and then when I return I will see you cleaned and dressed properly before your meeting with the king."

"Thankyou lord Elrond and all of you," Estel turned to include the twins in his scrutiny. "for your kindness though I am not deserving of it."

"You are far more worthy than you realize." Elrond whispered gently as he touched the young boys cheek lovingly before silently turning to go. "I shall return shortly please see that young Estel eats as much as he as able."

"Yes Ada" The twins replied solemnly excepting the elf lords commands with the serious determination of a soldier given orders by a general. The twins were prepared to wage war upon the battleground of a young slaves shattered and broken spirit.

"Come Estel you must surly be hungry." Elrohir coaxed making the first move as he ushered Estel over to the table where a heaping tray of food was steaming in the morning air.

Estel allowed himself to be corralled, sitting down reluctantly in the ornately carved chair. He allowed his fingers to run over the elaborately carved leaves and flowers decorating the finely whittled chair.

"It is indeed a most beautiful chair." Elladan spoke subtlety as he pushed the boys tray a bit closer hoping the wonderful smells would pull young Estel out of his melancholy stupor.

"Yes it is." Estel responded absently as he turned away from the beautiful ornamentation. He lifted his spoon forcing a few bites of the sweetly made porridge into his mouth, hoping to appease his stalwart companions.

Where such a meal would have been the ambrosia of the valar at any other time, it tasted like dust in his mouth as the dark thought of what was to come leaked into his mind. He was living on borrowed time. Firithgalad would kill him eventually it was merely a matter of time before the elf guard could no longer hold in his anger and he saw Estel finished for good. If only he had the comfort of at least knowing it would be a quick death when the time came. But no Estel was certain it was be as slow and painful as Firithgalad could make it. The elf guard looked too forward to seeing him suffer for anything less.

That was why he had to lie.

He must make lord Elrond and his sons, as well was Legolas, believe he had been lying that he had tried to manipulate them so they would stay away from him. They were too honorable to do so for their own safety. This was the only way to ensure Firithgalad would not hurt them in his quest for vengeance. Estel would never forgive himself should his friends be made to suffer on his account. And perhaps the king would be merciful enough to order a quick execution robbing Firithgalad of the pleasure to torment him.

Estel allowed a small morbid smile to quirk up his lips as he thought of depriving the elf guard his malicious pleasures. How it would infuriate him.

"What are you smiling at Estel?" Elladan enquired curiously. "You seemed so depressed a moment ago and now your can barely keep yourself from smiling.

Estel went into a full blown smile at the elf's obvious curiosity. If he only realized Elladan would most likely not find his humor nearly as funny. Estel had been through too much lately not to find his ultimate death a thing of some amusement. Perhaps all the stress was driving him mad. Who could find their manner of their own death to be so entertaining?

"I was thinking of how I have never tasted such delicious food before nor sat on something so fine. Before I wouldn't have been allowed to dust such a finely crafted chair much less sit in it."

The elf twins looked at each other with sadness to realize how much this young generous spirit has been denied in his young life that such simple things as sitting in a chair and eating porridge could be seen as glamorous wonders. The elf twins silently vowed they would see young Estel would soon want for nothing if they could help it.

"Come then Estel If the food is so good you should eat more. You have only had a bare few bites." Elrohir coaxed, as Estel's bowl of porridge had barely been touched except to be moved from one side of the bowl to the other.

Estel was interrupted from replying by Elrond return with an armful of colorful richly made garments.

Estel couldn't take his eyes off the dazzling green top or the warm sturdy brown pants, made for a small lithe body. Much to small for the broad elf lords or their father. Estel wanted abstractly who these beautiful garments belonged to.

"Surely you are not finished eating are you Estel?" Elrond questioned turning a disapproving eye to the barely eaten food.

"I'm not very hungry at the moment. My stomach is too jittery to eat properly right now." Estel replied not wanting to see the disappointment in lord Elrond's eyes. Not only did he fear he would never be able to hold such rich food down while his nerves were so jittery, but how could he eat such wonderful food when he knew he didn't deserve it?

"Very well Estel. Let's get you cleaned and dress for your appointment with the king. It would be best to not keep him waiting anymore than we have to. Lord Thranduil can be most impatient at times." Elrond replied.

At lord Elrond's request a few hardy male slaves entered bearing several large buckets of warm water that they promptly filled a copper tub sitting in the middle of the room with. The slaves kept their eyes respectfully downcast as they worked, quickly leaving the room once their task was complete. All except one who quickly looked up to catch Estel's eye before following his fellow slaves from the room.

Estel eyed the human strangely , there seemed to be something familiar about the man, but Estel couldn't seem to place him.

"Estel is something wrong?" Elrond questioned.

Estel shook the thought from his head and turned to smile at the elf lord. "No I'm fine, just thinking I suppose. Do you wish me to leave while you bath my lord?" Estel enquired politely.

"No that won't be necessary." Elrond replied.

Estel looked at the elf lord in shock. Surely he didn't mean… Estel had heard of such horrible things happening to young slaves be they male or female, but surely not lord Elrond.

"D…do you wish me to assist you in your bath my lord." Estel whispered unconsciously stepping back in fear. Surely lord Elrond and his sons' affections had not been only that of friendship hadn't it? Estel wasn't sure now. He had never had real friends before maybe he had misread the kindness he had received.

Elrond took in the boys frightened wary stance. What had come over the boy? "Of course I don't want you to assist me with me bath." Elrond answered. "I've already bathed to..day." Elrond stopped as he processed what the boy had said. "No Estel. I would never ask such a thing of you." Elrond responded vehemently. "This bath is not meant for me, its for you."

"For….for me?" Estel asked in confusion. "Slaves don't bath."

"Why of course they do. How do you get yourself clean otherwise?" Elrond asked curiously.

"We share a bowl of cold water and wash off the worst of the grime or if the masters really want us clean they bowl a bucket of water over us." Estel said. It was unheard of for a slave to take a bath, lord Elrond didn't seem to understand the way of things at all.

Elrond and his sons shared a sad look as they realized one more thing young Estel had been deprived of in his life. It was a chilling reminder of how much one could take for granted when a mere bath was an unheard of luxury.

"Well today you are in for a rare treat then Estel, for I have had this bath made just for you." Elrond smiled encouragingly. " and I promise you won't get in trouble."

"Are you sure?" Estel looked at the tub with longing and uncertainty. How nice it would be to feel truly clean. Perhaps he would look as clean as an elf even.

"Yes Estel I am quite sure. Come now get dressed so we can get you cleaned up." Elrond laughed cheerful at the look of wonder on the boys face. You would think he had just been given a basket filled with gold the way he glowed with such excitement.

Estel started to pull off his shirt, but quickly remembered the markings on his chest. He looked at the twins uncertainly. What would they think if they saw the strange tree tattoo? Would they treat him differently? Estel was loath to lose their friendship when he might have only a short time left with them as it was.

Elrond seeing Estel's uncertain knew that the twins would have to learn of Estel's identity soon, but perhaps they could hold off a bit longer. Estel and even the twins had been through so much already these last few days. Surely holding off a few more days would make little difference.

"Elladan, Elrohir could you give us a bit of privacy for a few minutes."

'Of course ada." The twins answered amicably. We will be just outside should you need anything." Elladan answered before the twins left giving lord Elrond and Estel some privacy.

Estel was relieved to see he could keep his secret a bit longer. He looked up at lord Elrond uncertainly though unsure what to do next.

Seeing Estel's indecision lord Elrond knelt down beside him smiling reassuringly. "Estel if you would allow me I would very much like to assist you with your bath. With your hand still healing, Elrond gazed meaningfully at Estel's wrist. "I fear it would be difficult for you to clean yourself. I vow to you that I shall not do anything untoward." Elrond looked at Estel expectantly. He would not force the boy in this. He wanted Estel to trust him and so he would respect the boys wishes in this matter whatever they might be.

"I know you wouldn't." Estel answered fervently. "I….i'm sorry I doubted you. You have been so kind to me already and I show you such disfavor. Please forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive Estel. You have lived a very difficult life and it is understandable for you to be a bit suspicious. We have only known each other for a very short time and it must seem strange that a complete stranger has taken such an interest in your well being. I know you won't believe me Estel but I hope in time you can see that I only wish the best for you." Elrond replied solemnly.

"But I already do trust you. I know you and lord Elladan and lord Elrohir have good hearts. You must to have taken care of me so unconditional." Estel touched lord Elrond's cheek unknowingly letting a bit of his healing magic escape. Lord Elrond immediately started to feel a greater peace than he had ever known before. Even the screads of heart attack he felt at losing his beloved wife so many ages ago were finally starting to heal away.

"You truly are an amazing boy." Elrond whispered in awe. The hands of a healer were born again and the world will rejoice.

But now was not the time to think on such things. They must first overcome the obstacle of king Thranduil, but Elrond silently vowed to himself that he would see this boy had a better life no matter what it took.

Elrond gently helped Estel from his clothes and lifted him into the tub so Estel would not put unnecessary strain on his healing wrist.

"Now try not to get your bandages wet if you can." Elrond said as he positioned Estel's bandaged leg outside the water as best as he was able.

"It's warm." Estel whispered in awe as he felt the heat seeping into his bones and soothing his tensed muscles. The boy immediately starting to relax in the soothing water allowing himself the pleasure of another rare luxury. He could feel his eyes starting to sting with tears. He could almost cry at all the wonderful things Elrond had given him while wishing for nothing but his happiness in return.

Estel couldn't help but smile as lord Elrond took a sweet smelling soap and started to wash years of caked on dirt from his skin and then his hair. Estel laughed in glee as the elf lord massaged his scalp. It was invigorating to feel all these years of grief and grime washed away.

The elf lord couldn't help but allow himself a rare smile as he watched the boy's obvious joy and contentment. Elrond wasn't sure he had ever seen this dour serious young child look so carefree. If this was all it took to bring such a smile to Estel's innocent young face Elrond vowed he would see Estel got to bath ten times a day from now on. Anything to take away the trouble weary look that forever seemed to haunt this poor boys eyes.

"I think my father use to bath me like this when I was very small." Estel quietly spoke his eyes closed in relaxation. "He probably worked over twelve hours a day, but he always came home and insisted on cleaning me himself. He even carved me some little wooden bath toys. A little soldier and an evil orc to battle. He would always be the evil orc and I was the brave warrior who would fight evil. It was the only real time we got to spend together each day. He would tell me a story and tuck me into my little pallet then sometimes he would rub my hair until I fell asleep. I miss him sometimes." Estel sniffled a little as his grief started to make his eyes water even worse. It seemed he was forever crying anymore.

"I am sure you father treasured those times with you and loves you very much as well Estel. Would you like me to tell you a very special secret?"

Estel shook his head and looked at the elf lord expectantly.

"Our loved ones are never truly gone. The valor love his children very much. Now I know what your thinking but Valor loves his human children just as much as his elf children and even his dwarf children believe it or not. So he allows our love ones to visit from time to time. Now we can't see them or talk to them or even touch them, but our heart knows they're there. Have you ever felt such a sense of peace come over you that you swore you could hear your mother singing or your father wittling? "

Estel nodded his head in wonder.

"Do you think they can hear me when I talk to them?" Estel asked.

"Oh I am certain of it." Elrond replied sincerely. "I still talk to my wife though she has left these shores long ago and though I can not hear her I can feel her love for me and someday I will get to see her again."

"Do….do you think I will get to see my parents again someday too." Estel asked hopefully

"Yes Estel. Someday a long time from now when you have had enough of this world you will get to see your mother and father again and they will be waiting for you with open arms.

Estel smiled through his tears and hugged lord Elrond. "Thank you for talking with me. If…if I could have a second father I think I would want him to be just like you.

Elrond found answer tears come to his eyes at such an honest and lovingly given answer. "And….and if I could have another son I should like him to be just like you." Elrond responded as he held the boy close.

"Thankyou Valor for this gift you have given me." Elrond whispered beyond human hearing as he held the now he was quite certain soon to be son close.

********************************************************************

Estel's palms were sweaty while inversely his mouth was strangely dry as he stood before the king's grand throne room waiting for admittance. Estel picked at the new unfamiliar clothes that felt so smooth against his skin. It was so soft he almost thought he was naked. He looked down with admiration at the beautiful soft doe skin boots on his feet, no doubt a suggestion from the twins. How he wished he could touch them an admire them some more, but no more how beautiful these clothes were now was not the time.

No doubt in a few moments Lord Elrond and his sons would regret having brought him such find clothing once they realized how undeserving he truly was.

Elladan squeezed Estel's shoulder soothingly as they awaited the king's pleasure or in reality his displeasure when he heard what Estel had to say.

Where Elladans comforting embrace would have normally been a balm to his nerves before, it was now only a painful reminder of all he was about to lose when everyone heard him admit to the crime of running away that Firithgalad has accused him.

Lord Elrond and his sons would be publicly humiliated for trusting a lowly underhanded human. They would believe he had manipulated them to save his sorry hide. They might even see him whipped on top of his other punishments for so thoroughly embarrassing them. If nothing else he was certain that he would well and truly lose their friendship and he would be alone again with not even his hope to sustain him now.

Elladan exchanged a worried look with his brother as they watched Estel seeming to fall deeper and deeper into despair as they waited to be admitted for their audience with the king.

"Perhaps it would be best if we did not speak with the king." Elrohir said. "You seem overly tired Estel I would not want you to be overtaxed."

"No. I must." Estel responded cryptically.

"Perhaps we could come back in a few more days?' Elladan reasoned. "Give you so more time to heal and grow stronger."

"Please." Estel pleaded stoically refusing to return the gazes of his worried friends. "I must do this before my courage fails me."

Elladan and Elrohir in silent communication both knelt down beside Estel offeing their silent support and understanding,

Elladan gently lifted Estels chin forcing him to maintain eye contact. "You must do as you must, but know you are not alone. We will be beside you though all of it and if you should need anything from us you need only ask."

Estel's eyes glinted wetly in the torch light as he saw the unconditional friendship and trust his friends offered unquestionable. It almost made him feel like he was worth something. After all if such noble honorable elf lords could find something likable about him surely that meant there was something to like didn't it?

"I don't deserve your friendship." Estel whispered mournfully. Soon they would see him as the scum of the earth, less then the dirt on the bottoms of their boots. How wrong they were about him to think he could do anything but betray and destroy those who cared the most for him.

"Oh Estel I wish you could see what a special person you are. You are as a brother to us and should your courage fail you we will gladly share our strength with you." Elrohir added. "Never doubt your worth."

The elf twins would have said more, but the doors the throne room opened. Estel had barely even glimpsed this room, after all what reason could a slave have to be in such a grand room? Most likely they would only break the finely crafted vases and rip the elegantly sewn tapestries. After all humans were clumsy dirty creatures; lacking the innate grace and beauty of their elven counterparts.

Estel's feet felt almost glued to the floor, fearful of entering what had for so long been a forbidden place. Once he crossed this threshold there would be no turning back. He would lose everything his friends, what shambling remnants of his honor might still exist, and perhaps even his life if it was the king's pleasure.

"Come Estel. There is nothing to fear. Just tell the king what happened a few days ago and all will be well." Elrond said soothingly as though speaking to a frightened animal that might bolt at any second.

Estel gave a sickening smile as he slowly and fearfully made his way down the seemingly endless corridor to stand before the king's grand throne. Legolas sat regally beside his father offering a small reassuring smile to Estel encouraging him forward.

It soothed Estels quickly fraying nerves to realize he had such loyal supporters. He only wished he would not have to so complete betray their trust in a few moments.

He could not stop the trembling that racked his small frame as his eyes came into contact with his tormentor Firithgalad, It seemed the king had called them both before him to speak of this matter.

Firithgalad allowed a slow menacing smile to overtake his face as he watched the young slaves wide staring eyes and shaking hands. He savored the sweet pungent terror that seemed to thicken the air. As he watched the boy's trembling get worse he couldn't help but smile even larger. The slave would not speak against him, he wouldn't dare now when his friends lives were in danger. No the boy being the sniveling little fool he was would speak just as he was told, believing he would save the lives of his friends with his obedience, then everyone would see what a worthless little miscreant he truly was.

Firithgalad waited with baited anticipation for the elf twins and their meddlesome father to listen with disbelief as the slave admitted to fooling them all. And then perhaps embarrassment would turn to anger as the elf lord and his sons realized how completely they had been taken in by the boys tearful eyes and desperate pleas. What a site to behold when they turned away from the slave child leaving him completely exposed and defenseless. Firthgalad nearly quivered with restrained excitement.

Elladan stept in Firthgalad's line of site blocking him from the huddled miserable puddle of a slave. Ah well he would see the boys delicious looks of agony soon enough. The best things were worth waiting for.

Elladan glared angrily at the elf guard his hands fisted at his sides. Firithgalad nodded at him companionably knowing it would only make the eldest twin more irate.

Elrohir laid a restraining hand on his brothers tense shoulder. "Be still brother. Attacking that orc will not help Estel's cause. Justice will prevail my brother, but Estel needs our strength now. Do not fail him."

"Never." Elladan vowed fiercely. He turned aware from the elf guard summarily ignoring him for more important concerns such as Estel's well being. Elladan kneeled down to Estel's level and soothed the worry lines from his brow.

"All will be well Estel. I will never let that monster touch you again. Do not let him frightened you. He is a coward for daring to hurt a child." Elladan said.

Estel leaned into the elf twin's touch. Savoring perhaps the last comfort he would ever know.

"You would bow down to a slave before me!" Thranduil bellowed destroying the happy moment.

"Forgive us your majesty." Elrond replied smoothly as he executed a perfect half bow for the king, his sons reluctantly mirroring their fathers show of respect. "The boy is obviously frightened and we only wished to alleviate his fears. It is terrifying to him to be so close to the elf who got such delight out of tormenting him, but a few days ago."

"Indeed and do you speak for him as well Elrond? Is the boy a mute?" Thranduil snarled nastily, easily slighted by the affection the elf lords seemed to show for the human. "Come here slave and tell me your name."

Estel walked forward a few more steps and prostrated himself completely before the king. "I…..I am called Estel your majesty."

"Speak up and for the valars sake sit up. I can't understand you while your groveling on the floor like a worm." Thranduil bellowed.

Estel hastily got to his knees keeping his head respectfully bowed.

"I am called Estel your majesty." The boy replied again.

"Indeed it says here that your name is "Esteless" Thranduil eyed him accusingly. "Well no mater lets get this done with."

"Tell me slave," Thraundil boomed condescendingly. "I have heard much talk and accusation against one of my most loyal soldiers Firithgalad. It has been said that he forced you into the woods and attempted to hunt you like wild game. I have never heard such a preposterous story. What reason could he have had to do such a thing.?" The king demanded as he glared menacingly at the slave's prostrate form.

"Because he's a monster!" Elladan shouted out indignantly as his temper started to sizzle. "He seems to enjoy hurting those that are weaker than him." Elladan glared menacingly at the elf guard his hands clenched into fists making it very clear he would like to meet out his own form of justice to Firithgalad.

The elf guard only looked on smugly, seeming to dare the irate elf to attack him before the king without provocation. King Thranduil would see what mad creatures he had let enter his house. It could only help his case for the king to see Elrond and his sons being so unreasonable. The king had already said he held his word in higher esteem then anything a noldor or a slave could ever say. This all was merely a formality. The king would see this slave had his comeuppance and it would only be an added bonus to see these pesky elves cooling their heels in the dungeons.

"SILENCE ELRONDION." Thranduil commanded, "Or you shall find yourself gracing my dungeons for your insolence. This matter does not concern you."

"With all do respect your majesty we are deeply concerned for young Estel's well being. He has become like a brother to us. You didn't see him when we found him after Firithgalad's cruelty. He had been tormented and tortured to within barely an inch of his life. I don't think there was a bare inch of skin that wasn't bruised or cut in some way. We were almost certain he would perish. If it hadn't been for ada's superior healing . abilities he most surely would have." Elrohir replied beseechingly, hoping to reach the kings cold heart.

"Indeed for Firithgalad tells a somewhat different version. He claims this slave was attempting to escape into the forest as he has tried many times before. Firithgalad only meant to apprehend him when the boy became like a rabid animal and could not be contained. 'Firithgalad states his only option was made to use force when the boy would not heed his calls to surrender. Slave your quite lucky he was merciful enough to shoot you in the leg and not somewhere as life threatening as the heart as you surely deserved." Thranduil said coldly.

" There were two arrow wounds your highness one on the leg and one in the shoulder. The boy also sustained some cuts that were most certainly from a hunting knife and a broken wrist. Do you not think such force against a defenseless eleven year old human boy might be a tad excessive?" Elrond responded.

"Humans are wild irrational things quick to foolishness. Firithgalad in his superior judgment no doubt felt such force necessary to ensure the boy's capture and return to his proper place." Thranduil growled out seething.

So a highly trained elf warrior could not subdue an eleven year old human boy without using arrows your highness?" Elrond lifted his eyebrow in disbelief at the king's obviously biased opinion. "Surely he could have quite easily outrun the boy and subdued him with his superior strength alone had he wished to."

"Enough" Thranduil roared angrily. Displeased to be so questioned by a half-breed elf. And worse yet the insufferable Elrond at that in his own court. "Can the boy not speak for himself or do you insist on speaking for him. Slave, tell me is it true or not that you were trying to escape?"

Estel's breathing started to pick up frantically as he realized the moment of truth or perhaps more accurately the moment of lying had come. He looked one last time at lord Elrond and his sons who all stood around him like protective wolves guarding a cub. Then he looked up at Legolas who nodded with encouragement. Estel squared his shoulders and settled his resolve. They would all hate him in the end, but it would be worth it to save their lives. What was his life and happiness is comparison to theirs. It was the least he owed them for accepting him and treating him as an equal something no one else would ever have done.

"Yes your majesty." Estel replied softly.

"Yes what." Thranduil demanded.

"I…I was trying to run away."

A gasp of startled silence fell over the court. Estel continued on quickly keeping his eyes firmly on his feet, unable to face the cold accusing gazes of his one time friends.

"I was trying to escape when Firithgalad spotted me. He demanded that I stop, but wouldn't listen to him." Tears fell down his cheeks as the lies burned his throat. "I threw a rock at him forcing him to shoot me in the arm. But I kept running. I fell and broke my wrist, but I still wouldn't stop the pain only driving me on more. I didn't stop until he shot me in the leg."

"So you lied?" Thranduil bellowed out in anger. "You made these elves believe you had been unfairly accosted by a loyal and honorable elf guard. You would besmirch his name to escape your own punishment. You disgust me more than even the lowliest of humans I have met in my long life. I would be in my rights to have your tongue cut from your mouth for you lies and your feet severed from your ankles for daring to runaway." A maniacal glint entered the kings eyes as his anger built.

Terror was Estel's only companion and the comfort that at least now perhaps his friends would be safe from Firithgalad's vengeance was the only thing that kept Estel from falling to the floor and begging the king for mercy or at least for a merciful execution. He couldn't stop the tremors from rippling through his body as he imagined the king ordering one or perhaps even both of his feet to be cut off as he had threatened, an acceptable though rarely used deterrent for runaways.

"Yes your majesty." Estel whispered forlornly as his body tensed for what was to come.

"GAURDS!" Thranduil roared. "Get this slave from my sight. Have him confined until I best decide his punishment.

Elf guards quickly converged on the cowering slave boy efficiently pulling his defenseless body to its feet and clapping him in chains. Estel did not fight as he was dragged away.

Tears falling down his face, Estel whispered, "I'm so sorry." As he was led in disgrace past the elves whom he had come to see as his only friends. The young slave boy hung his head in shame unable to face the people he had betrayed as he was led away in chains to a fate unknown.


End file.
